Tomorrow Never Knows
by Archer of Mirkwood
Summary: Legolas and his best friends Laina and Malian encounter many changes over the years, some for the worst. Will they have time to realize their hearts in the confusion? Will they survive the War of the Ring? NOT A TENTHWALKER. Not an MS. LegolasOC.
1. Leaving

**Disclaimer: **This is not my first fanfiction; my first is **Maybe Then **and (in my humble opinion) is worth checking out. Anyway, onto my second fanfiction of the year. I am sure no disclaimer is actually needed, though I feel obligated to say that Legolas, Aragorn, Arwen, Gollum, Thranduil and whoever else you might recognize do not belong to me. You know who they do belong to. Other than those that belong to Mr. Tolkien, the rest are mine... my apologies to Tolkien for abusing his characters. That said, I have (as I did in **Maybe Then**) altered Tolkien's characters a bit for my enjoyment and writing pleasure, and do not wish to get criticized for it. This, as you may well know, is a _fanfiction_. Meaning... anything I write would be untrue to Tolkien's works, so whether or not I write that Aragorn had three heads and was actually a Dwarf--the piece belongs to me, and I do not believe I would ever desire any sort of merit from it, whether or not the characters are as _you _see fit. They bend to my will as characters often do in writing, and will no matter what you say, so it would please me if you choose your words wisely and forget that these characters are not as you envisioned them. Aragorn and Legolas are--dare I say it?--cheeky, and they will remain that way for the course of the story. If you are prone to dislike that, then... nothing is forcing you to read my story (other than perhaps your sheer curiosity) and flames will be greeted with something in a simliar tone--meaning, be constructive, not mean. With that being said, this is a romance with some action, but not a Mary-Sue (or whatever). There's no real world people involved in this at all, and the main character I have created (from whose view you are hearing the story) is not _me_. In fact, she looks nothing like me and she is not the most beautiful creature in Middle-earth who suddenly captures Legolas' eye from afar and he falls madly in love with her and she him and they live happily ever after - if that's what you're looking for, this is not the story for you. Not that I have a problem with aforementioned stories, but I simply do not write them and this is not one of them. Anyway, on with the story... any delays in updating are due to circumstances beyond my control and are mentioned in my profile, if you take the time to read such things.

----------------------------------------------------

The time of year was late autumn, and leaves had fallen from the trees, scattering the ground with dead colors. I looked out upon the Wood from the window in my flet, ignoring the crunching footsteps and ringing laughter of my friends from below.

"Laina, _do_ try not to sulk," my mother's voice said from behind me, which only proved to make me more bad-tempered than before.

"But I _want _to go play with Malian and Legolas!" I insisted, crossing my arms and scowling in a very adolescent manner.

"You will have to wait until _after _lunch," I heard my father agreeing. I let out a tiny _hmph_, but dared not push it any further for fear I would be banned from playing all afternoon.

If my parents thought my friendship with Elves of nobility advantageous or even dignifying, they did not let on. Of course, at that time in my life, I was unaware of the meaning of rank or social status, only having lived for fifteen years: an infant in the eyes of any Elf. Quite the contrary, actually; though I was conscious of Legolas' title as Prince of Mirkwood and Malian's royal-blooded connections, their statuses were everything but heralded and rather served as fodder for child's play at our age. Legolas would play heroic Prince and I the hero's sidekick, trying to save a timid, helpless pillow from the clutches of her wicked captor, Malian. Having grown up with two brothers, Gareth and Cathal, and insisting on surrounding myself with other males as playmates, I dreaded the thought of playing a powerless maiden to be thrown about and rescued, doted upon and treated as fragile. I therefore contented myself with being Legolas' aid in recapturing his lost love (the pillow), and Legolas and Malian never protested.

"Can this lunch business be rushed, then?" Gareth asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.

"Have ladies to meet?" Cathal inquired playfully, at which he received a hard thump on the nose from our brother. Cathal was the oldest of the three, and having just had his thirtieth birthday, was growing into a rather good-looking young Elf. His features were hardened like Father's, his cheekbones high and jaw strongly set. His hair was a pale blonde and his piercing blue eyes, which he had received from Mother, had cleared with age. Gareth also had the blue eyes that ran rampant in our family, but his hair was slightly darker and his facial structure not as defined. At twenty-two, he stood a few fingers' width taller than Cathal. His dark eyebrows furrowed, he glared at our brother. I looked at my reflection in the window, recognizing the blue eyes of my mother and noticing the shine of my almost strawberry-blonde hair; a mixed trait, as my father had strikingly red hair and my mother lusciously blonde. I looked back at Gareth, who was positively scowling at Cathal by now, evidently thinking of a comeback. Cathal was scathingly witty, a characteristic he had picked up from Mother. Gareth, on the other hand, was usually passive and did not constantly roll quips off his tongue like Cathal.

"And I suppose you _aren't _meeting any ladies?" Gareth replied, a hint of disdain in his unwavering voice.

"Only kidding, little brother," Cathal greeted the insult jovially and with a wink, as he did all things.

"Quit your bickering and come eat," Mother interjected. I stood from my chair by the window and rushed into the kitchen, hastily taking my place between Gareth and Cathal. As soon as my plate hit the table, I tucked in, eating hurriedly as a Hobbit would after a day with no food.

"I fiffed," I announced, my mouth still full of food. Mother must have correctly translated this, because she answered, "You are not leaving until the whole family is finished." With finality in her silver-blue eyes, she forced me back into the seat I had hopped out of a moment ago. Crossing my arms unhappily again, I waited impatiently for the rest of my family to finish eating.

"My, my," Cathal said after eating another spoonful of potatoes, "I could eat like this all night." He winked at me, a gesture at which I threw a look that could melt iron and stuck out my tongue. Cathal laughed heartily before taking another bite and sitting back in his chair, clearly full. Gareth had finished minutes before, and my parents were taking their last bites as well.

"Mother, can I please go now?" I asked hopefully. Mother sent an indistinguishable look at Father, who nodded.

"Alright," she agreed, "but be back by nightfall."

"Thank you!" I replied, leaping from my seat and practically hurtling down the rope ladder leading up to our flet. It felt good to finally have crunching leaves under my own feet, and I hurried along the path up to the castle. The first Elf I ran into happened to be Legolas, whose casual smile widened as I approached.

"Finally!" Legolas exclaimed gleefully, grabbing my hand and pulling me down to the second floor of the castle where Malian stayed. A look of delight spread across Malian's face as we ran toward him, Legolas nearly knocking him over as he jumped on him.

"I thought we'd _never _get to play," Malian laughed, throwing Legolas off of him. The three of us joined hands and skipped off down a long corridor in the castle, satisfying ourselves with a game of hide-and-seek.

"…Ninety-nine, one-hundred!" I exclaimed, taking my hands away from my eyes and looking down at both ends of the wood-floored corridor. I perked up my pointed ears in silence, straining to catch any noise made by my prey. I tiptoed down the corridor to my left, being careful not to make any sounds that would give away my location. I heard a scuffle of feet behind a door just down the hallway, and I sprinted off in the direction of the noise, pushing open the door. The room I stepped into was a guest room, complete with a bed and wooden chest at the foot; across the room, the bathroom door stood ajar. I hurried to it, pushing it open resolutely and exclaiming, "Ha!" at the feigned fright on my companion's face.

"Alright, I guess I'm it," Legolas sighed resignedly.

"You make far too much noise to be much of an archer," I joked. "Even a Dwarf would have heard you from a mile away with that racket."

"Really?" he asked incredulously, and the dragon inside my stomach roared with victory, until- "Well, a Hobbit could have outrun _you _if he was walking at his slowest pace." The dragon flared its nostrils in anger.

"Then _why _didn't you run? Afraid even the laziest Orc could have caught you if you tried?" Legolas gaped wide-eyed at this attack.

"Oh _yes_?" he asked before taking off at a dash down the corridor.

"I'll get you, Greenleaf!" I yelled after him, prompting Malian to open the door to his hiding place and rush out after Legolas. I easily caught up with both of them, tackling Legolas to the ground before he reached the end of the hallway. After a howl of laughter from me, Legolas stood quickly and brushed himself off.

"I _let _you do that," he said airily, flipping his golden hair behind him and narrowing his soft brown eyes at me. "You couldn't have caught me if I were running at full speed."

"So you could _certainly _catch _me _if _I _were running at full speed, then?" I challenged, and as Legolas nodded, I ran in the other direction. The rest of the afternoon passed with Malian, Legolas, and I chasing each other and playing pretend. Just before nightfall, I took my leave (reluctantly) and headed home.

"Been out fighting off an army of Orcs?" Mother asked as I appeared at the top of the ladder and climbed into our flet. She smoothed my hair down and examined a scrape on my knee before allowing me to climb, exhausted, into bed. Though tired, I could not fall asleep and after a while I recognized the voices of my parents muttering outside my door conspiratorially.

"If you have something to say, come in," I insisted loudly. A moment later, my father opened the door and poked his head in.

"Mind if I have a little chat with you?" Father requested warily. I raised one eyebrow at him but did not object. He crossed the room and sat on my bed, running one hand through my messy hair.

"What is it, Father?" I asked, worried at the concerned look on his face. He sighed unenthusiastically.

"Well, your mother and I…we…we have decided it is time for a change." I waited for him to explain further, but it was clear he thought this statement needed no clarification.

"Um, what kind of change?" I prompted. Father's light green eyes carried with them a bit of pity.

"A change…of scenery." He patted my head lovingly, not making to say anything more on the subject, as if he were reluctant to inform me exactly what this meant.

"Right," I said undecidedly. A pause. "What does that mean?"

Father, who had been looking anywhere else but in my eyes, now settled his gaze somewhere near my chin. "It means…it means we are leaving." Great! A vacation!  
"Oh, good!" I exclaimed to my father's surprise. "Where to, and for how long? I thought it might be nice to get out of the house for a week or two--"

"No, no," my father interrupted, dismay written on his face. "We'll be gone...indefinitely."

"_Indefinitely_?" I echoed.

"Your mother and I have decided it is time for a change, and we want to pick up and go to Imladris, the city of Lord Elrond," Father explained.

My world was suddenly a shade darker, and I gulped down an inappropriate reproach, instead saying, "When?"

"We leave tomorrow," Father answered, taking my harsh tone in good stride. "I know you have friends here, Laina, but your Mother and I are growing restless; we are not young, you know."

_Tomorrow_? I was fuming. How could they be so selfish? "And…and you think…" I was having to take deep breaths in between my words so as to stop myself from screaming at him. "You think…_leaving Mirkwood_…is going…to help?"

"Yes," he replied without missing a beat. "I think it is precisely what we need." I wanted to throw something at him, to scream and cry and, if humility took me, beg with him to let me stay. But I knew I couldn't. With no words of comfort and after a moment's silence, my father ruffled my hair a bit, kissed my forehead, and walked out of my room. My mouth was hanging open and I clenched and unclenched my fist, searching for words of accusation to throw at his back, but I found none. Fifteen years and I was expected to accept this move with grace, nay, dare I say _pleasure_? I was so furious I did not sleep.

The next morning dawned as I expected every morning in Mirkwood did; I was the only one who saw the stormcloud lingering over my head. After a silent breakfast on my end despite many attempts of my brothers, I was permitted to go to the castle to bid farewell to my friends. I trudged up the pathway, thinking bitterly that this may well be the _last _time I would walk up the pathway, and burst through the doors unhindered. Legolas was waiting around for me as usual, and he ran up to me with an exasperatingly cheeky grin spread across his face.

"What, still angry that I outran you yesterday?" he asked, jabbing me in my ribs with his finger. I daresay he picked up on the rather serious undertones of my dubious scowl, because he immediately followed the question with, "Is everything alright?"

"_No_," I replied indignantly, not exactly wanting to tell Legolas that I may never see him again.

"Well, what is it then?"

"I'm leaving," I responded unwillingly.

"Oh, that's all?" Legolas demanded lightheartedly, draping one arm over my shoulder. "You're moping about going on a trip? Laina, I'll see you when you get back. I know you'll miss me sorely," he added, that cheeky grin still on his face, "but by Varda, I won't die while you're gone."

"That's what _you _think," I added hopelessly, gloom replacing my fury.

"I doubt there will be any serious attacks by creatures of _any _kind in the next few weeks," Legolas said, trying to comfort me.

"You don't understand!" I nearly shouted at him, the dragon inside me grunting miserably. "We're _leaving_! We're moving to Imladris!" Sudden shock spread across Legolas' usually good-humored face. His brown eyes widened in disbelief.

"You…you _can't_," he whispered desperately. I nodded. "When do you leave?"

"Today."

"_Today_?" I nodded again. "But-but that is far too soon!"

"I know!" I cried sorrowfully. Legolas put both of his arms around me and hugged me tightly.

"We will see each other again," Legolas said, resting his golden head on mine as he was a good foot taller than I. I glanced up into his eyes, and he nodded again. "Let's find Malian, he will want to say goodbye." Legolas grabbed my hand and led me down to the second floor as he did every day, but this time with an air of finality about him.

"You're _leaving_?" Malian inquired incredulously, his dark brown hair falling into his blue eyes that matched mine in color. "_Today_?" Legolas explained that we had already been through this conversation once, and it was time to say farewell. Gallantly, both of my friends suggested one last game of pretend before I left. When the game was over and Legolas and I had successfully rescued the pillow, Legolas and Malian walked me back to my flet, chattering gleefully along the way. I had almost forgotten I had to leave my two best friends, and when we reached the ladder leading up to my flet, I nearly invited them up.

"I guess we better get back to the castle," Malian asserted finally, his blue eyes softened with melancholy. I nodded understandingly and threw my arms around his neck. "I'll miss you!"

"I'll miss both of you!" I replied, tears in my eyes. I let go of Malian and embraced Legolas. He put one hand behind my head soothingly.

"Now, if you forget to visit I will have to run all the way to Imladris and _then _beat you in a race," Legolas joked. He was witty until the end, and I silently thanked him for it; otherwise the situation would have been far too painful to bear. The two of them departed at length, leaving me to climb the ladder solemnly, looking dejectedly after them as they ran back toward the castle. I would not see them for five hundred years.


	2. Aragorn, Gollum, and Two Old Friends

"Guess who?" came a mischievous, deep voice from behind me. I giggled and lifted my hand to feel the long fingers that spread across my eyes, blocking my vision. As if I had not already identified the culprit, I ventured an ill-placed guess.

"Only some sort of Dwarf would have hands as hairy as these," I quipped, biting my lip to suppress another out-of-character giggle.

"Come now, Laina, I'm not _that _hairy!" The hands moved away from my eyes and I spun around. My laughter was greeted in a similar vein by the grey eyes of a familiar, dangerously unclean Man.

"Been off doing that 'ranger' bit of yours, have you?" I teased as Aragorn wrapped both arms around me suggestively.

"It just so happens I _have_, and have caught quite a creature if you must know," Aragorn explained, pulling me closer.

Ignoring the short description of whatever Aragorn had caught this time, I struggled to break free of his ever-tightening grip. "And just what would Lady Arwen say if she saw us wrapped up like this?" That question made him loosen his hold for only a second, which was too brief for me to escape his grasp.

"We will just have to hide then," Aragorn said, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me a few paces playfully before setting me down again. "Oh, I guess you're right."

"I know what _you _would say, though," I replied, regaining my balance and putting on a very serious expression. I deepened my voice uncharacteristically and began to stammer, "Arwen…I…we…you're…" and I stuttered off into a feigned-uncomfortable silence. Aragorn, despite himself, laughed at my impression of him when Arwen was around. "_Honestly_," I began pointedly, "she pledged her hand in marriage to you twenty-nine years ago and you still cannot form a complete sentence in her presence. How did she decide you were 'the one'?" Aragorn smirked.

"I guess it is my hopelessly irresistible looks," he retorted. I scoffed.

"Then she's as blind as a Balrog," I laughed. Aragorn wagged a finger at me, but sighed in resignation and shook his head.

"One day I will be able to hold a comprehensible conversation with her," he hoped aloud, a wistful expression on his dirty face. This time, I shook my head and we walked around a bit in silence. At length, Aragorn spoke up again. "I really have to get going." The tone of his voice was almost reluctant at leaving my sight, and I could tell this was not a normal 'get going.'

"To where, exactly?"

"Mirkwood." The word rang out in my head a thousand times before I actually understood the word and its connotations. I must have thought about the Wood every day since I had left it five hundred years ago, but I had never returned. The memories of the place where I spent my first fifteen years grew fuzzy, until the only clear memories I had were the faces of the few good friends I had played with and the smell of our flet in the mornings. I had only heard from one Elf in Mirkwood since the day I left; Legolas had written me a letter telling me of the new friend he and Malian had the fortune of meeting. I sensed no real feeling in the words he had written and, at the time, I was hurt; but the pain of leaving had long since vanished and I had unconsciously forgiven the fifteen-year old Legolas and Malian for finding someone else with whom to pretend. Now, at the mention of the Wood, I was lost in a wave of emotion uncommon of me. Aragorn snapped me out of my near-trance.

"Laina?"

"Oh, sorry," I said quickly, shaking my head to expel what memories I had left floating in between my pointed ears. A look of comprehension came over Aragorn's face.

"_Oh_, how idiotic of me, Laina! I completely forgot you were born there," Aragorn exclaimed. Returning to my former self, I thumped him on the nose.

"You _are _an imbecilic excuse for a mortal," I replied, ducking his oncoming swat. "Did you intend to hit a _lady_?" I asked incredulously.

"A _lady_?" Aragorn replied stupidly, glancing over his shoulder. "I see no ladies around here!" That statement earned him a clout on the back of the head, and laughter ensued. Aragorn grabbed my hand, which was about to deliver another smack, rather forcefully and his face regained a serious overtone. "Do you want to come with me?"

"What?" I asked doubtfully. "To _Mirkwood_?" Aragorn nodded. I had never thought of returning as a real possibility, but I saw some merit in revisiting my birthplace and, a little too quickly, agreed to accompany him.

"Great!" Aragorn yelled, picking me up and twirling me around. "We just have to get Gollum and let Elrond and Gandalf know--"

"Gollum? _Gandalf_?" The former was anonymous to me, but the latter all too notorious. "What in Arda is going on?"

Aragorn cleared his throat, suddenly aware that he had explained nothing to me. "It's a rather long story, but the short of it is I was to catch a creature named Gollum and bring him to Mirkwood. I am disinclined to enlighten you as to exactly _why _this has to be done; I don't even know the full story, though I can guess most of it," Aragorn said, and I saw his eyes cloud over in thought. I decided it best not to extricate details, and instead followed Aragorn to the dungeons.

At first sight Gollum was nothing short of revolting, to say the _very _least. He was crawling about in his cell on all fours, using what must have been hands as temporary feet. His skin was taught and pale and he seemed almost skeletal; the black hair on his head was thinning and short, and his large, saucer-like eyes were sapphire blue and questioning. He had a sort of loincloth, brown and ragged, tied thoughtlessly around his waist. His mouth was, like his eyes, substantial and showed signs of only a few teeth spread out in his great array of gums. He was talking to himself without consideration and I could not help but catch snippets of something about his 'precious' and the mention of someone who was rather 'nasty,' and I thought I heard something about 'thieveses.' However, most of what he said was indiscernible and, at any rate, probably not worth hearing. I watched as Aragorn opened the door to his cell cautiously and entered, and quickly tied a rope around the creature's neck. At this, Gollum screamed in displeasure and my hands moved quickly to my sensitive ears.

"Can't you shut him up?" I yelled over the din Gollum was making. Aragorn looked around, puzzled, and yelled for Gollum to shut up, which of course did no good. Only after a few minutes of screaming was Gollum interrupted by the very noise which must have given him his name.

"_Gollum, gollum_, nasssty Man ties ropes around our necks, precious, yes. Uses _nasssty _Elveses' rope, he does, yes, precious," and the rest of his speech was cut off by the sudden realization that Aragorn and I could hear him.

"Gollum?" I said aloud as I tried to sound calming; I had the vague impression that the name came out a little too hesitantly, however, because Gollum spouted off more nonsense before grumbling himself into silence again. "Um…Gollum?" I said, more gently this time. Gollum swung his large, saucer-like eyes to me and cackled. Aragorn tugged at the rope a bit, at which Gollum screamed again (but only for a moment this time), and followed us unwillingly out of the dungeon and into the sunlight.

I will not recount the long days of our journey from Imladris to Mirkwood, because the voyage was routinely dotted with strange mutterings from Gollum and sound and colorful swears from Aragorn when Gollum tried to bite him. Apart from those mildly amusing events, the trip was monotonous and my ever-growing anxiety at returning to Mirkwood was reaching warning levels so high that Aragorn refused point-blank to speak to me for an entire afternoon. That is not to say we did not flirt mercilessly on our way to Mirkwood save for that one afternoon. Finally, we reached the outskirts of Mirkwood and I was forced to drink it all in once again.

Nothing had changed, I saw immediately. The trees still huddled together and broke apart in places, as green as they had been five hundred years ago. We passed underneath the flets of the villagers, some of which had heads peeping curiously out of windows or doorways. We continued unquestioned, because what Elf in their right mind would approach a Man as unkempt and seemingly inhospitable as the one beside me, not to mention with Gollum skulking along with us? I smirked inwardly at their puzzled expressions, wondering what I would have thought if I were them. My musings were interrupted unceremoniously, however, as a guard in front of the castle knocked a bow in his arrow so swiftly I would have thought he had been standing there, arrow in bow all day.

"State your business, travelers, or I will stick an arrow through all three of you," came the threatening voice. I nearly choked on my next breath, startled as I was, and I surveyed the guard meticulously. There had never been guards at the castle doors before, and I was not ready to believe this Elf was serious until I took a closer look. By Varda, he _was _gorgeous from the roots of his dark hair to the slightly pink color of his ear tips right down to his authoritative black boots. I stared humorlessly into his eyes and noticed softness in the blue lights shining there. I did a mental double-take, examining once more his long, chestnut locks and the ocean blue of his eyes before abandoning all caution and running toward him excitedly. He nearly dropped his bow when I threw my arms around his neck and let out a high-pitched, abnormal squeal of delight.

"Do I know you?" he asked skeptically as I pulled away. I thumped him on the nose, and at once his eyes adjusted. His mouth fell open and I saw him scanning my body as I had his; his eyes started at my head and fell down my strawberry-blonde hair, which I no longer kept short and straight but rather long and wavy; they recognized my blue eyes that matched his; they wandered disconcertedly (and hastily, mind you, for fear of being clouted) around my chest and fell with my long, grey dress to my toes.

"_Laina_?" Malian whispered as if he had just seen an army of Orcs ten-thousand strong. I nodded as a grin spread over his face and he actually dropped his bow to put both arms around me and pick me up, spinning me around. "I cannot believe it's you! Where have you been? Five _hundred _years, Laina! And my, has it done wonders on you-" he started, but I pinched the sensitive tip of his ear just in time.

"Another word and I'll have you screaming for your mother," I threatened resolutely, and he did his best impression of a child pleading to be released; I complied, and he hugged me again before realizing I was not the only being that had just vaulted into his life.

"Who are your—er, _companions_?" Malian nearly spat the word, for lack of a better one. Aragorn grinned sheepishly (and could I see a hint of gratitude in that smile?).

"This is Aragorn," I said brightly, indicating my scruffy, hairy friend. Malian seemed less than enthusiastic to greet him, and I had to giggle. "I grew up with him."

"You grew up with _us_," Malian argued, his eyes flashing. Varda, why was he getting so defensive?

"Fifteen years compared to the seventy-eight I have lived," Aragorn admonished, deadpan. Malian scowled.

"You two stop your squabbling and shake hands," I insisted, and they both hesitated before giving in and shaking hands halfheartedly. "That wasn't so hard, was it? You filthy racists." Aragorn made to retort, but I brushed him off by introducing our other guest. "_This _is Gollum," I said definitely as if the name alone explained the matter. Malian raised one dark eyebrow.

"I was sent by Gandalf to take him to King Thranduil," Aragorn clarified.

Malian nodded distastefully in Gollum's direction. "What exactly _is _that thing?"

"Not sure, really," I admitted, having never pondered the question before. Aragorn shrugged too. "Anyway, we are apparently to take him to Thranduil--"

"_King _Thranduil," Malian interjected.

"Right, _King _Thranduil," I corrected myself, but the whole thing seemed awkward; I was so used to being on a rather friendly basis with the King that it was a bit perplexing to refer to him as '_King _Thranduil.' Nevertheless, I continued, "And I would really like to hear what you have been up to all this time, Malian," I finished, smiling. Malian returned the smile and grabbed my hand, leading me inside.

"Everyone will be so glad to see you," he said, ignoring the worried look on Aragorn's unshaven face as he followed us timidly inside with Gollum on the other end of the rope.

"Um, not to interrupt," Aragorn said, interrupting nonetheless. "But I really must see Thranduil right away." I shot him a puzzled glance as Malian grimaced at the sight of Gollum inside the castle.

"Alright," Malian finally agreed grudgingly. "Follow me. Laina, you stay here, I will be right back after I bring this—this—_Man_ to the King." If words were spears Aragorn would have been skewered, but as it was he made a face at Malian's turned back and winked at me, indicating that when he returned I would be punished for leaving him alone with Malian and Gollum.

"You pervert," I said after him. I found myself standing alone in the foyer of the castle, looking around at the familiar wood-glazed walls and feeling the comforting green carpet beneath my feet. A hollow sound like children laughing reached my ears, and I thought I would go into a fit of nostalgia, but my memories were postponed by another Elf emerging into view.

The aforementioned emerging Elf was a foot taller than I with long, golden blonde hair plaited behind his ears on both sides and ending in a half-ponytail behind his golden head. He was clad in all green, a tunic and a belt around his waist, lighter green leggings covered at the feet with black slippers. His honey-brown eyes were scrolling the lines of a book he was holding in his hands and he was walking lithely toward me without knowing I was present. Not wanting to disturb the Elf's reading but far from wanting another surprise attack by what looked like an able archer from his build (I could practically see every individual muscle in his stomach underneath his tunic), I cleared my throat audibly. The Elf looked up from his book and nearly dropped it on sight, gazing fervently at what I hoped was not my breasts. I coughed a little again as his eyes wandered over me, careless that I knew exactly where they were roaming.

"Are you just going to stand there and eye me all afternoon?" I asked loudly, clearly snapping the lout out of his little fantasy. His eyes burned intensely into mine after I spoke, making it almost impossible for me to speak again. Could I see the slight beginnings of recognition in his expression? But surely not, for this Elf was completely foreign to me.

"L-_Laina_?" his (from what I could tell, usually) unfaltering voice inquired. I had never heard my name in such an unbelieving tone, even after hearing the way Malian said it. I had not the faintest idea who this Elf was, and I think he was almost taken aback by my inability to identify him immediately. "You have forgotten your best friend?" he asked, recovering from whatever sudden identity crisis had stricken him momentarily speechless. My best friend? It—no, it wasn't. It—it couldn't be. But he was so handsome! He was so…much older!

"_Legolas_?" I nearly screamed. A grin quickly threatened to tear his face in half, and I recognized at once the cheek behind it. Before I could register exactly who I had just seen, I was in another Elf's arms and being twirled around for the second time that day. My, my, his arms did feel rather strong and certainly able. I wondered immediately whether or not he had ever put his fingers to use, but banned the thought from my mind almost as soon as it had appeared. This was Legolas, for Varda's sake.

"Laina! Wow, you look so—so—different," Legolas stumbled over the words as he put me down and eyed me again.

"So do you!" I admitted loudly, thumping him on the nose. "How are you, O Prince?" I added quickly as he crossed his eyes and rubbed his nose, the impish grin still spread across his face.

"There's so much to say," he began seriously, but I clouted him on the back of the head playfully.

"You haven't gone all _dignified _on me, have you?" I checked. Legolas shook his head and laughed.

"Never." With that, the two of us linked arms and strolled about the corridors, talking jovially of the last five hundred years. Of course, five hundred years was no short time for the race of Man, but for the two of us, it seemed only a few years since we played pretend in the halls of the castle and chased each other around until we could not breathe for panting. Legolas had the same comic outlook on many happenings about the forest, including the irascible courtesans who, from the sound of it, rather stalked Legolas wherever he went. He could not help but laugh at the description of Aragorn as a foul, perverted, cheeky little scoundrel and all but cried with mirth at the impression of Aragorn trying to speak to Arwen Evenstar.

"Arwen was always a charmer," Legolas admitted.

"You've met?" I asked suspiciously.

"Being the daughter of Lord Elrond, she has done her fair share of traveling." At this, my mood lightened considerably, which Legolas must have noticed because he asked, "Do you really think that if I had been to Imladris I would not have found you straight away?" I could not help but smile at this, and, with my arm in Legolas', we continued talking animatedly about the five hundred years we had spent apart.


	3. Bickering

Later that afternoon, Legolas and I finally returned to the foyer. I recognized Malian's figure at once, slumping against the wall and apparently impatient. He looked up from his brooding in time to see me laugh wholeheartedly at something Legolas had just said. Was it me, or did I recognize a hint of jealousy in Malian's eyes? But, as soon as they had clouded over, they cleared and he ran up to us eagerly.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting here all afternoon," Malian said, a trace of scorn in his voice.

"Malian, can you believe she's here?" Legolas asked in astonishment, ignoring Malian's slight contempt.

"No," Malian smiled in reply, "but I'm glad of it. Five hundred years we lived without a hero's sidekick." Playfulness danced in his brown eyes.

"What? But Legolas' _only_ letter mentioned a new friend you two played with," I responded questioningly.

"Yes, but she took the pillow's place," Malian's smile was now a bit, what, victorious, and his eyes fell on Legolas' face.

"_She_?" I turned to Legolas.

"Her name is Kaethe, and we are to be wed," Legolas answered. My jaw dropped and eyes widened. "Don't act so surprised!" Legolas pleaded. "She really is wonderful."

"Right, wonderfully dense," Malian muttered under his breath. It was Legolas' eyes' turn to flash, and he scowled unhappily in Malian's direction.

"I heard that, and she is _not_," Legolas replied heatedly. Malian stifled a chortle, and I looked from one of them to the other.

"Well," I said after a moment, "I will just have to meet this Kaethe and decide whether or not she is quite worthy." I stuck out my chest and straightened my back in my best impression of royal-blooded, high-ranking women in the halls. Malian's choked-back chortle was released and he nearly doubled over in laughter, but Legolas crossed his arms grumpily.

"She _is _worthy," Legolas retorted unhappily. I was laughing too, but I stopped when I saw the stern look on Legolas' face.

"Come now, Princey boy," I soothed, thumping him on the nose. "Don't go all decorous on us." Legolas rubbed his nose and sighed, releasing a small, reluctant chuckle. "There now, you see? You can still laugh _with _us." He smiled warmly at me and I made to prod him some more about this Kaethe, but my favorite human appeared before I could get another word out.

"Your father is a bit upset at me," Aragorn interjected. I raised one eyebrow at him and he smiled awkwardly in Legolas' direction.

"I should think so, bringing that mumbling, stinking wretch in the castle," Legolas shot back. I cringed slightly.

"So, I see you two have already met," I said.

"Briefly," Aragorn answered, scowling a bit at Legolas. "On my way up to see Thranduil."

"You really ought to address him as _King _Thranduil," Malian began, but Legolas shot him an unreadable look and Malian said no more. I wondered exactly what this was about, because Aragorn seemed to understand the unspoken rebuke Legolas had given Malian, and he did not correct himself.

"It's nice to know everyone around here gets along," I joked at length, at which everyone broke into smiles. Thank Varda I had the ability to do that to my closest friend and my two oldest friends.

At that moment, another Elf stumbled ungracefully into view (that's the way I like to remember her appearance, anyway, but I get the impression I have a rather selective memory when it comes to how utterly obtuse she was). I had to admit she was beautiful; her long, sunlit blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders to her hips. She wore garments of royalty, a long, shiny, silver dress that clung to all the right places on her body and flowed with her every step. Her piercing green eyes were nearly the color of the trees' leaves with a hint of pale yellow around the pupil; her lips were (in my humble opinion) a bit too large, but I could tell Legolas did not think so and rather thought they were just plump enough for kissing. Her skin was ever so light so that she almost glowed and before she spoke I knew her voice would be even more airy than that of Arwen Half-elven.

"Legolas," came her breathy voice, so light it was almost creamy. "I have been looking all over for you."

"Kaethe!" Legolas exclaimed after a moment of staring at her lustfully. I rolled my eyes; as if he had not seen her coming from across the foyer. Silly little Elf. "I have just been catching up with an old friend," he nodded in my direction. Kaethe raised one perfect eyebrow in question. "Kaethe, this is Laina." A look of comprehension dawned on her face.

"Oh so _this _is Laina!" she breathed. "Legolas used to talk about you a lot."

"Used to?" I asked before remembering I was being impolite. "It's nice to meet you," I added hastily.

"This is the one I told you about in that letter!" Legolas said to me, not taking his eyes off of her.

"_Oh_," I answered, trying not to sound nasty or jealous. Varda, why was I being so irrational? He had every right to have another best friend turned fiancé. I had been gone for five hundred years; had I really expected to still be the number one girl in his and Malian's hearts? "Well, you did not do her justice, Legolas." At this, Kaethe smiled pleasantly and bowed her head. I returned it, trying to look as regal as she had.

"Could _anything _do her justice?" Legolas wondered aloud, still perplexed by her very presence.

"_Honestly_, stop gaping, Greenleaf," I had to say. "You have known her for half a millennium; surely you are passed the gawking stage by now." Legolas, eyes still transfixed on Kaethe, gave a nervous sort of laugh and scratched the back of his neck uneasily. Kaethe did not seem bothered by Legolas' complete dolt-ness at present, but as for me, I was already sick of it. I reached up one menacing hand and clouted him on the back of the head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the spot where I had hit him.

"That should teach you to stare at a female like that," I said. With his eyes, Legolas threw daggers in my direction (and if eyes could cut I would have been in pieces on the floor), and I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, I really should be getting back to my room," Kaethe breathed.

"I'll escort you back," Legolas offered a bit too quickly. Kaethe smiled pleasantly and looped her arm in his proffered one and they glided away together. I rolled my eyes after them.

"_Honestly_, does he do that every time she's around?" I asked Malian, who still stood looking somewhat aloof yet victorious. He turned his head toward me and shook it a bit in disbelief.

"He makes an utter fool of himself around that Elf," Malian agreed.

"Not unlike someone I know," piped up a voice from behind us. I turned around and smiled to see Aragorn standing behind me (I had almost forgotten he was present) with a cheeky grin on his face.

"No, not unlike at all," I concurred. Aragorn took a step forward and wrapped his arms around me slyly. "Now now, _Estel_," I mocked, "if everyone saw you doing that they would think something highly inappropriate about the pair of us." Malian glowered.

"They most certainly would," I heard Legolas say. I saw him skipping slightly as he returned and could not help but press myself a bit closer to Aragorn.

"What's it to you, Greenleaf?" I inquired innocently.

"My best friend involved with a human?"

"_Best friend_? I got the impression that the female who won your heart was just escorted away by her loving Prince."

"She is my wife-to-be, not my _friend_," Legolas corrected. I raised one eyebrow.

"Shouldn't the two go hand-in-hand?"

"When he can't even have an intelligible conversation with her?" Malian interjected.

"Maybe there are other ways to get to know one another besides talking each other's ears off," Aragorn added deftly, a trace of anger in his voice. He let me out of his embrace crossly.

"Exactly!" Legolas exclaimed, surprising everyone by taking Aragorn's side.

"What, you mean in bed?" I spat. This whole conversation was getting a bit ridiculous.

"How _dare _you suggest--"

"—that either of us were so pig-headed that we'd--"

"—sleep with someone to get to know them, you unimaginable blockheads--"

"—else can you do to get to know someone--"

"_Stop_!" Aragorn, Legolas, and Malian turned their heads toward me and then looked at each other in astonishment.

"Sorry," Aragorn said after a moment.

"Yes, as am I," Legolas agreed and Malian nodded.

"Right, well our stay in Mirkwood won't exactly be lovely if we all keep fighting like this," I admitted.

"Our _stay _in Mirkwood?" Aragorn inquired doubtfully.

"Well I didn't travel back to my birthplace after five hundred years to spend one afternoon handing Gollum over to Thranduil, seeing my oldest friends, and leaving," I answered resolutely. Aragorn reluctantly agreed.

"Great!" Legolas exclaimed, remembering that I was, after all, his 'best friend.' "The Fall Festival is tomorrow night!"

"The Fall Festival! I had completely forgotten! Well, I better find a dress to wear," I said, smiling. Aragorn raised one eyebrow at me in disgust before allowing Legolas to show us our rooms in the castle where we would be staying.

The bedroom in which I was to stay was not unlike any of the guest bedrooms Legolas, Malian, and I used to use to play hide-and-seek. The floors were wooden like all the floors in the castle, and covered with a green rug that was embroidered with shiny, silvery leaves. The bed was large and the bedspread the same pattern as the carpet. A chest stood at the foot of the bed, in it a pile of beautiful dresses I could not picture myself wearing. I had never been the sort of Elf to enjoy being overly-feminine, but I guessed I would make an exception for the Fall Festival, if just this once. Aragorn waved a sheepish 'see you later' to me and followed Legolas off to his room. I lay down in the bed, snuggling up against a soft pillow; before I could tell myself I was just 'resting my eyes,' I fell asleep.


	4. Breakfast with the Greenleaves

The next morning dawned brightly, but I never would have known if the curtains had not been thrown apart so quickly, allowing the sun to seep through the window and hit my eyes so hard I thought I'd been slapped. I opened them reluctantly, Legolas' figure greeting them.

"What in all Arda are you doing, Greenleaf?" I muttered sleepily.

"Waking you up, stupid," he replied, an all-too-familiar grin on his face.

"Go bother someone else."

"I've already awoken Aragorn and Malian!"

"What about Kaethe?" Legolas scowled at the question.

"She's not as much fun to annoy," he admitted, the grin not disappearing from his cheeky little face. I raised one eyebrow in question, but he explained no further. Instead, he jumped on the bed like a cat onto a table and began nuzzling me with his nose.

"Honestly, Greenleaf, if you were anyone else I'd cut off your arm," I grumbled, exasperated.

"Then my arm would be the better for having been cut off by you." That sassy smile still on his lips and impudence dancing in his eyes, he nudged me with his nose again.

"Leaf, I swear to Varda I wish I had a knife right now."

"We all know you couldn't hurt the tiniest of Hobbits if you wanted to." This received a thump on the nose, at which Legolas whimpered and turned his light, honey-brown eyes toward me. Damn those puppy-dog eyes.

"Alright, I'm up," I mumbled finally. Legolas jumped off the bed as dexterously as he had jumped on, like an excited child who has just awoken his parents on the morning of his birthday. I yawned and stretched, watching Legolas hop out of my room before dressing myself.

At length, a timid knock came at my bedroom door. I yelled for the offender to enter, and I saw Aragorn's head peep inside. "We're supposed to be going to breakfast," he said groggily.

"Oh, wonderful, well, prepare yourself to be seated at a table with giggling courtesans and high-end nobility," I replied, rolling my eyes. Aragorn grinned.

"I won't be out of place then, will I?"

"Please, as if you would ever accept your title," I retorted. Aragorn shrugged as if to say 'you never know,' and hurried me out of my room. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were too shy to go in by yourself."

"Good thing you do know better," Aragorn snapped, but I could tell he was a bit intimidated by all the Elves who kept staring at him as if he were a giant spider of which they needed to rid themselves. Every Elf seated at the two long tables in the dining room were staring as we walked past, clearly taken aback by the sight of a human in their midst, especially one accompanying another Elf. I smiled feigned-pleasantly at them as we walked toward Legolas, who was seated near the far end of one table next to Kaethe and across from Malian. He was waving excitedly at us, pointing animatedly to two empty chairs on his other side. I waved back stupidly, widening my eyes to give the impression he was making a fool of himself again. He obviously did not catch the hidden message, because he continued to point fervently at the chairs beside him. I had to mentally stop myself from rolling my eyes; I was all too sure no one would be very understanding if I rolled my eyes at their Prince. Finally, we reached him and he stopped his inane pointing.

As I took my seat, I smiled broadly and whispered out of the corner of my mouth, "I'm pretty sure everyone in Middle-earth saw you pointing. I think the Orcs in Mordor know where I'm sitting for breakfast." Legolas smirked but did not reply. Malian eyed Aragorn suspiciously from across the table. After a moment of quiet chatter, all the Elves at the two tables began to stand. I thought it best not to remain seated, and took my place next to Legolas; Aragorn hurried out of his seat as well, anxious not to be the last person standing. I suddenly realized why we had all gotten to our feet; Thranduil had walked into the dining room and was making his way to our end of the table. I looked to the left and saw an empty chair at the very end; Thranduil paused for a moment in front of it before sitting. Everyone followed suit unanimously. This was a ritual I had forgotten about in my five-hundred-year absence.

"It's been so long since I have seen you at one of our tables, Laina," Thranduil said loudly while the entire room was still hushed. I wanted to cringe but stopped myself, as everyone was staring at me in disbelief.

"Yes," I replied, clearing my throat, "I have been gone for quite some time but could not resist visiting your lovely son again." Had I managed to keep the sarcasm out of my voice? Everyone at our table gaped at me and Thranduil chuckled slightly. "…Your…Highness," I added slowly, which only elicited more chuckling from the king.

"Well, I thank my son then for being so unforgettable and causing the return of one of our own," Thranduil replied, glancing at his son and Kaethe (did I see a hint of discontent when his eyes passed over her?) before acknowledging Aragorn with a slight nod. "And it is our pleasure to have Aragorn visit us as well, despite the little—ahem—friend he brought along." I knew he was referring to Gollum, but everyone else seemed a bit dubious. "That having been said, let's eat." He certainly did not waste too much of anyone's time greeting guests, and at those words, the staring and gaping ceased and Aragorn and I were left to eat in peace. Well, mostly.

"I have always thought I have made a great Prince," Legolas was saying to Kaethe, and it came out as somewhat of a murmur if I knew better.

"What was that?" I asked so loudly that Thranduil looked up from his plate, a twinge of laughter in his eyes.

"He was just saying how everyone in the Wood looks up to him," Kaethe responded lightly. I raised one eyebrow at Thranduil, who chuckled into his food. Legolas looked up sharply at his father, glaring a bit before returning to his own plate. Before I had much time to respond, I heard a few giggles to my right and I looked down at the culprits. Four or five female Elves were huddled up together a few seats away from us, tittering and causing a bit of a disturbance around them. These must be the 'ladies' I had grown up trying to derail. I recognized two of them from my childhood at the halls: their names were Bethwyn and Edáline, and they were even harder to bear than Kaethe had proven thus far. Of all the dense, idiotic things to do, Bethwyn, Edáline, and their cronies were stealing glances at Legolas and whispering to one another what they supposed was secretly.

"You have a fan club, Your Highness," I admonished, nudging Legolas' elbow with my own. He shot me a dry glare before glancing apprehensively at the giggling noblewomen. The tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink.

"They are so embarrassing," Legolas whispered, returning to his food.

"I could teach them a thing or two," I offered, and Legolas' pointed ears perked up a bit. "I could teach a lot of females around here a thing or two," I added under my breath. Legolas had obviously caught that last bit, because he gave me a sharp prod in my ribs with his elbow.

"I know who you're referring to," he said, trying to sound threatening and cross, but this gesture proved difficult as I had always had the ability to read his twinkling eyes.

"Whatever do you mean?" I questioned, false innocence in my voice. Legolas shook his head slightly and winked; I would have liked to continue our little conversation, but Aragorn was now nudging me in the ribs quite violently at my right. "Varda, Aragorn, what do you want?" I couldn't keep the annoyance out of my voice. I had just been getting somewhere in this Kaethe conversation when I was rudely interrupted by his nudging. "This had better be good." Aragorn was looking nervous and he nodded his head ever so slightly in the direction of the tittering bunch of 'ladies.'

"They're staring at me now," he whispered. I stifled an outright laugh before raising both eyebrows at him curiously.

"You can run around all day tracking Orcs and sticking your sword in any vile creature that threatens to come near, yet you're cowering at the thought of a few giggling morons?"

"In my defense, women can be vicious," he replied. I had to give him that.

"Especially Elven women," I agreed. "They probably hate you because you're all scruffy and, well, human." He looked even more terrified. This could be fun. "You should probably avoid them at all costs. Never speak to them, Aragorn," I warned very seriously, "they'll attack." Aragorn nearly jumped out of his seat and managed to push his chair back a few finger lengths away from Bethwyn, Edáline and their crew. With that (and suppressing a smile), I turned back to Legolas fully intending to engage him in conversation, but his back was toward me. I frowned, glancing across the table at Malian. To my surprise, he had not taken his blue eyes off of me and was currently making me very uncomfortable.

"Malian," I said forcefully, engaging him in eye-to-eye contact rather than eye-to-forehead. "Staring is not very flattering."


	5. The Necromancer

Breakfast continued in such a way, with Aragorn scooting his chair ever closer to me and Legolas' back turned whilst I was busy glancing up to make sure Malian had really stopped staring. I could not, however, refrain from catching snippets of conversation here and there; I tried to seem inconspicuous as I listened to a few of the what must have been Elves in the army. They whispered of nameless evils, a shadow growing in the East and something about the Dark Lord. When Thranduil finally made to leave (and we were all expected to stand as he exited), I grabbed Legolas by the arm and steered him away from Kaethe before either of them could protest.

"What in all Arda--"

"Oh, shut up Greenleaf and listen. From what I gathered at the table this morning, Mirkwood is in a whole lot more trouble than I had thought. What is all this about the Dark Lord? I overheard a great deal about Dol Guldur, and don't pretend you have no idea what I'm on about." Legolas looked altogether frightened and, from the look on his face, would rather gouge out his own eye than have this conversation. "Leaf, what is going _on_?" Legolas shook his head and I pinched the sensitive tip of his ear. He whimpered in pain.

"Alright, _alright_, I'll tell you, just _let go_!" he finally pleaded after my grip on his ear tip had tightened. I promptly released him, and his hand flew to his ear, rubbing it comfortingly. He sighed as I stamped my foot impatiently at him. "Look, I don't know much—I really don't!" he exclaimed at my suspicious glare. "All I know is that nigh on six hundred years ago, the Dark Lord Sauron reestablished himself at Dol Guldur in southern Mirkwood and since then, all the signs have been troubling." I gaped, and Legolas looked at me carefully. "I figured that's why you left this place before it got worse. I know your parents told you they had simply grown weary of Mirkwood, but I know better, especially now. Of course, no one knew for certain that Sauron had really returned to Middle-earth until Gandalf confirmed it in 2850 of our Age, but Elves are of very intuitive natures and rumors from the East had reached many ears." I raised an inquiring eyebrow at him and he took a deep breath before continuing. "Didn't you notice on your way in that the flets in the trees were scarcely of the same number they were when you left? Elves have fled this place, Laina! Everyone is scared; Orcs have been in and out of our Wood for too long. Sauron was driven out of Dol Guldur only sixty-eight years ago by the White Council."

"_Orcs_? The White Council?"

"A group of Elves and Wizards, headed by Saruman the White, formed to drive out Sauron from our Wood," Legolas explained. "As for the Orcs—they have come in numbers across our Wood, scheming and pillaging. Did you notice our guards everywhere? They are lurking in the woods, and we have some outside of the doors to the castle at all times. We are on the defensive, and I'm not sure what will happen next. The last sign that something big is stirring came when you turned up; Aragorn, the rightful King of Gondor, leading a half-dead Hobbit-like creature on a leash? Surely you thought something was shifty about that?"

"Well, I knew Gandalf had sent Aragorn here, but Gandalf is always meddling and I figured it was no more of a dangerous task than any Gandalf is notorious for instigating." Legolas seemed to accept this as a sound reason for my momentary lapse in observation, and he nodded as if lost in thought.

"That is all I know on the subject," he finally said after a while. "And you would do best not to eavesdrop on division leaders anymore," he added sternly. I cocked my head at him.

"Maybe you should tell your division leaders not to talk so loud about things they don't want heard," I snapped. Legolas looked a bit taken aback, but his eyes cleared almost instantly and he returned to his normal self.

"If your ears weren't so big--" he began playfully, but Kaethe fumbled into our path out of nowhere and he caught himself. "I must take your leave now, Laina, and hope to see you at the Fall Festival tonight." Kaethe seemed pleased and she glided past us; I could tell she thoroughly expected Legolas to trail her wherever she went. "Don't wear what you have learned on your sleeve," Legolas warned.

"Perhaps I should simply not wear sleeves?" I muttered flirtatiously.

"Ooh, or nothing at all?" Legolas suggested, winking at me before disappearing quickly on Kaethe's heel. I wanted to exclaim how unendurably cheeky he had just been, but thought it best to keep my mouth shut. Instead, I hurried off to my room, hoping I'd run into Aragorn along the way.

Someone must have heard my silent plea, because, while lost in thought, I was nearly knocked clean off my feet on the way to my room. I caught my breath in time to see Aragorn before he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the nearest room, which just so happened to be mine.

"They're after me," Aragorn whispered, cautiously closing the door. I burst out laughing. "_What_? _You _warned me about them! Now they're following me as dogs would on a hunt."

"Or like rangers would on a scent?" I suggested. Aragorn rolled his eyes. "On a completely different note, Aragorn," I began, "why didn't you tell me exactly the reason we came here in the first place?"

"I told you that Gandalf ordered me to bring Gollum here," Aragorn replied, clearly confused.

"But you never said why! Legolas told me about Sauron, and I want you to fill in the gaps." Aragorn's face became slightly sickly-looking and he was obviously hesitant to tell me anything. "Aragorn, _please_." He looked at me sadly but shook his head.

"I can't," he answered. Well, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. Before another word was muttered, I slipped one sleeve of my dress off of my shoulder. It fell elegantly to my elbow. Aragorn was, of course, staring at me intently. I let the second sleeve fall before pulling my dress down completely. Underneath, I wore a corset and bloomers, but Aragorn wasn't worried about that. He shuffled toward me hungrily, grabbing me forcefully and planting a longing kiss on my neck. "Ex_cuse _me, Mister Almost-King-of-Gondor, I don't think Mrs. Almost-Queen-of-Gondor would approve," I began, but his searing kisses were running up my neck now, toward my ear.

"Tell me what you want me to do," Aragorn murmured in my ear. Dammit, I had started this and I really had to finish it. I placed one hand on his chest, and, trying not to notice the rippling muscles underneath his clothes, ran the hand down his front side, reaching his groin. I gave an expert squeeze, and Aragorn gasped for air.

"Tell me why we brought Gollum here," I whispered in his ear before biting his ear lobe suggestively. His knees buckled and he nearly fell on the floor in front of me, melting into a little puddle of Aragorn.

"Because--" he began, but he gasped again as I began to rub the flesh beneath his trousers. "Because—Gollum knows—the whereabouts—of—" he stopped and made not to continue, but I grabbed one of his hands and placed it on my breast before giving another expertly-delivered rub. "Of—the One Ring." I immediately moved my hand, my jaw dropped.

"The _One Ring_?" I asked incredulously. Aragorn seemed to snap back into reality because he quickly moved his hand from my breast and took a step back, his eyes wide. I pulled my dress up hurriedly and moved as close to him as I could. "That's not possible." Aragorn did not respond. "You know I will never leave you alone until you tell me everything you know," I threatened. Aragorn gulped.

"Laina, oh Laina," he muttered, moving his head to kiss my lips. I pulled back, slightly disgusted.

"Quit thinking with your—well, you know, and tell me what in Arda is happening, Aragorn. The _One Ring _has been found, and this—this—_creature _knows where it is?" Aragorn nodded sheepishly. "And he's here because Gandalf is afraid Sauron's forces will catch him and torture him until he gives them a location." Aragorn nodded again. My deduction skills had proven themselves. "What makes us think Gollum hasn't already given the location to the Dark Lord?"

"That's the problem," Aragorn whispered, "Gollum has." I gaped in disbelief, not daring to move for fear the entire world would shatter. "Damn you, Laina," Aragorn whispered at length.

"I had to know," I said, trying to make my voice as nonchalant as possible, but it came out in a whisper. "What happens next?" I finally got the nerve to ask.

"We can only guess," Aragorn replied. We were still whispering.

"He'll send out his forces—"

"His _darkest _forces—"

"To retrieve the Ring. Where is it, Aragorn?"

"It lies in wait far West of here," he replied, moving over to the bed and sitting on it as if he had been running for a full day. "It will not be soon, I think, because Sauron is not yet strong enough, and his allies not prepared enough, to seek the Ring. Sauron has overlooked the world of the Hobbits for now, and in that we are lucky."

"_Hobbits_?"

Aragorn chuckled, breaking the spell. "Can you imagine? Yes, I think it is safe to say we should not yet worry ourselves with such dark tidings."

"How can we simply ignore them?" I cried.

"Because we must, for now," Aragorn answered shortly. "We will know when it is time, but now we must enjoy the world without darkness, as long as it lasts." With that, Aragorn exited (still a bit embarrassed, I could tell from the seriousness in his voice), and left me to ponder what would happen with a Hobbit, the One Ring, and the Dark Lord.


	6. The Fall Festival

Getting dressed for the Festival was a fiasco. I hadn't brought any clothes with me, so I took to searching the chest at the foot of my bed for a dress suitable to wear. I had thrown a few dresses aside, all rather plain, before pulling out one of the most gorgeous dresses I had ever seen. I did not usually wear white, and especially not anything as radiant as this, but from the moment I saw it my eyes wouldn't leave. The sleeves were long and ended in a scoop so extensive it threatened to hit the floor. The dress was cut perfectly; the V-neck dipped dangerously low and the dress fanned out to the ground. The white of it was so pure it was almost blinding, and if I moved it around in the sunlight, I could see the silver leaves embroidered on it from the waist down. I thought at first to throw it aside with the others; I could not possibly pull off a dress as beautiful as this one, but after laying it carefully on the floor next to me and reluctantly turning my gaze to the emptying chest the dress stayed on my mind, pressing me. _Alright_, I thought. I'd put it on, but _just _to see how it looked. I would never wear it to the Festival.

I slipped the dress on and gazed at myself in the full-length mirror in the adjoining bathroom. Was it possible that the person in the mirror was me? I could still see my signature strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, but with the dress on, my hair seemed a slightly lighter shade of blonde and my eyes a sharper blue. I had never thought of myself as beautiful, always having given off the impression I never _wanted_ to after growing up with countless males, but in this dress—I dared think it. Under any normal circumstances I would never have worn a dress like this. I didn't mind being noticed by males, but for Varda's sake if they were going to turn into Elven puddles or start doting on me and tripping over themselves, I would not have it. I knew that, in this dress, the doting and tripping may be unavoidable; as soon as that thought crossed my mind I felt disgusted with myself and turned away from the mirror to take the dress off immediately. However, the moment I left my own visage in the mirror, my mind forced me to turn back around. Honestly, even _I _was melting at the sight of myself. This was ridiculous. I had to get this thing off.

I turned to leave the bathroom and found myself gliding into the next room. I had never glided before; I was certainly not one to do so. I sat and watched, bemused as Arwen floated by in Imladris. I watched in disgust as Kaethe drifted by as if her feet were not even touching the floor, but to suggest that I was anywhere _near _the 'gliding' phase was ludicrous. Yet, I had felt myself gliding and, come to think of it, I did not mind too much. Oh, if just for one night I was fawned over, I would live…right? I took another look down at myself before finally deciding I was definitely attending the Festival in this dress and there was no talking myself out of it.

Though I felt beautiful (for the first time ever, let's say), I also felt a bit ashamed and awkward because I was so used to being modest about what I wore. Nothing I had ever worn was this brilliant; yes, the dress was simple but it glowed from every angle. I felt like I had fuzzy edges, but was not ready for everyone to see. Therefore, I opened my door carefully and stuck my head out, looking around for any stragglers in the halls. I was a bit late for the Festival, but I had been sure not everyone arrived exactly on time, and what with staring at myself, I had quite lost track of the hour. I saw no one in the halls, so I started off in the direction of the foyer. I prided myself on remembering the location of the Fall Festival; I had been to so many, always sitting by the fire with Legolas and Malian and laughing at all the grown-ups as they danced and drank wine.

The Festival always took place in the middle of the Wood, down near where our flet used to be. I walked down the well-worn pathway away from the castle and toward the clearing from which I heard the noise that could only be made by a few hundred Elves talking loudly, playing music, and drinking. I made it to the clearing and stepped out of the darkness, making my way to a table with wine glasses on it. A few Elves stopped and looked what they thought was inconspicuously in my direction. I nodded my head at them to let them know I had seen their jaws drop, and I smiled at the Elf who was serving the wine.

"Lovely night," I said, raising my glass in his direction before turning around.

"And an even lovelier Elf," Malian said, appearing in front of me. I rolled my eyes.

"Save it, Mal," I replied, smiling inwardly.

"I have been," he retorted smartly. I wagged my finger at him.

"Been working on the wit, hm?" I asked, taking a sip of the wine. He raised his glass to me before finishing what was left. "Anything interesting happen so far?"

"Not if you discount Thranduil's annual speech," Malian responded, deadpan. I knew what he must have meant; Thranduil was infamous for his long, boring speeches at the start of any semi-big event, and the Fall Festival included the entire Wood, so the speech promised to be extra long and dreary.

"Glad I missed it." Malian nodded. "Well, let's get this party started, shall we?"

"Care to dance?" he asked, a little too hopefully. I smiled graciously despite myself and took his arm, allowing him to lead me into a smaller clearing within the bigger one, usually designated for dancers. I giggled uncharacteristically adorably as Malian put one hand on my waste and took the other in his. After a short while of dancing, a few other partners had taken their places near us and laughter and cheering ensued. I was just in the middle of a very interesting conversation (about Kaethe, mainly) with Malian when we were interrupted by a tap on Malian's shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?" The intruder was Aragorn. Malian squinted his eyes at him, silently giving him a rude gesture with his stare. I was sure that meant 'yes, I mind very much' (plus a few colorful words), but Aragorn said, "Thanks," and took my hand in his.

"I thought he might cut off your head, Aragorn. You'll want to be careful around these Wood-elves. Dangerously violent," I said playfully.

"Dangerous _teases_, if it's not too bold," Aragorn replied cheekily.

"Sorry about that," I muttered, and I could feel my ears flush pink.

"You should be sorry about this dress you're wearing, Laina. I'm afraid everyone in this Wood is going to want a dance with you before the night is over."

"I will just have to oblige then, won't I?"

"Not if I can fight them off," Aragorn declared virtuously. I raised one eyebrow at him.

"_You_ fight off this entire Wood? They'd send arrows at you from so far away you would never see them," I warned.

"If I keep dancing with you, I will never have to dance with any of those giggling idiots," Aragorn admitted shamefacedly.

"Oh, so _that _is why you are prepared to fight off the entire Wood, so you can avoid the Elven maidens."

"There's only one Elven maiden I am after tonight," he answered, that mischievous grin on his face.

"I think not," I laughed. "Arwen isn't here."

"You know very well that I meant you."

"You know very well I would never go off with a Man, especially _not_ you," I replied playfully. The music ceased and Aragorn finally let me go. "I'm off to find another glass of wine. No, I do not need an escort. Find some other Elven maiden to scandalize!" I exclaimed, swatting off Aragorn's groping hands. He shrugged and winked at me before disappearing into the throng of laughing Elves. On my way to the wine table, I noticed the fire out of the corner of my eye. I picked up a glass and headed in that direction. Two bodies were sitting huddled up by the fire, and I recognized them immediately.

"Having a reunion without me?" I asked, interrupting their conversation. Malian and Legolas turned toward me and I heard the quite audible gasp from Legolas' lips. Malian had not had the gall to react as such in my presence because I probably would have clouted him on the head, but Legolas never felt as if he were overstepping his boundaries. After all, he _was _the Prince and had never been told _not _to do something when it came to females. Every eligible She-elf in Mirkwood had most likely thrown themselves at him since he had come of age, so I was not surprised when he let his eyes travel over my body carelessly. I watched as his honey browns strayed too long across my chest (I knew that dip would create just the right reaction) before I interrupted his gaping. "Honestly Leaf, you'd think I was an Orc the way you're staring." His eyes snapped up immediately, looking straight into mine. He stood clumsily, nearly falling back to the ground as he did so.

"I would never stare at an Orc like this," Legolas breathed. This was too much.

"Oh, quit your gawking," I insisted. "Kaethe might see and try to float too closely in my direction for comfort."

"But—Laina, _how_…" his voice trailed off as he ogled me.

"_How_? Is it so unbelievable that I could be _pretty _for one night?" I snapped. Legolas looked slightly taken aback.

"Sorry, I just never really thought of you as a—a—well…"

"What, have you never noticed I have breasts?" I was getting angry. Of all the dense things—

"No, I noticed," Legolas answered to my astonishment and minor mortification.

"_What_?"

"No! No, sorry, I just—I always saw you as a _friend_ and not as—as—"

"Sexy?" Malian suggested, interrupting our banter.

"Right," Legolas replied. I was looking from one of them to the other in disbelief. First, Legolas had admitted he never thought of me as pretty, and then said he _had _noticed my breasts, and now agreed that I was sexy? He had been right earlier in our conversation after breakfast: something was definitely happening.

"If I didn't love the both of you I swear you would both have pairing knives stuck in your hands," I said finally. Legolas and Malian both instantly relaxed. "Now what were you two murmuring about before I so rudely interrupted?"

Malian said something under his breath that sounded quite like 'you,' but Legolas cleared his throat noisily and replied, "Just military things, you know, what with Orcs arriving every few days and such." Legolas was a terrible liar; he had not been in the least convincing.

"Sure," I said guardedly. "Well I will leave you two to it, then." I made to walk away but my elbow was caught by what felt like a strong archer's hand.

"Can I have a dance?" Legolas asked. I raised one eyebrow at him as if to ask whether or not he were joking, but he seemed solemn enough.

"Um, alright," I agreed, polishing off the last of my second glass of wine and setting it down on another table before following Legolas into the crowd of dancing Elves.

"Where did that dirty ranger get off to, I wonder," Legolas said after a moment of dancing.

"Probably off frisking some unsuspecting Elven maiden," I replied, which was probably not far from the truth, though I thought the 'frisking' bit too much; he was usually not very aggressive when it came to females besides me. I wondered why that was. Was I just that easy to talk to? I guess I wasn't as intimidating as most females. Like I said, I had never been 'the beautiful one,' and I was definitely not very feminine, so I guessed wit and homeliness was easier to approach than density and gorgeousness.

"Why do you say that?" Legolas asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"He doesn't exactly keep his hands to himself all of the time, does he?"

"I hadn't noticed," Legolas laughed. "Has he, er—has he ever touched you?"

A mental picture of earlier that day flashed before my eyes. I wanted to deny the encounter completely, but I did not see the harm in confiding in my best friend. I had no girl friends to confide in, and Legolas was the next best thing. I had no reason to hide it, anyway. "To be honest, yes." Legolas' reaction was not the one I expected. He stopped briefly in shock before I led him back into the dance.

"How? When? Do you want me to—"

"Don't be silly, Greenleaf," I chuckled. "He meant no harm, and I daresay I rather encouraged it. Well, today anyway." I suddenly remembered a certain night we had spent together in Imladris before Aragorn had met Arwen and fallen in love with her.

"It has happened more than once? And you encouraged it? It happened _today_?" Legolas was incredulous.

"Yes on all counts," I answered. I could tell Legolas would prod me until I explained, so I saved him the trouble and said, "It happened once a long time ago, when Aragorn was much younger and we were both inexperienced with breaking hearts."

"You mean you gave yourself to him first, and he you?" I thought I heard Legolas' heart breaking a bit, but brushed it off as my imagination.

"It was a long time ago," I repeated. "I just so happened to remind him of the experience today in my quest to gain information."

"_What_?"

"Don't go jumping to conclusions, we didn't sleep together…today," I added. "I just wanted to know exactly what was going on, and seeing as I had gained all the information from you that I could, I had only to fill in the missing pieces with Aragorn's knowledge."

"You temptress," Legolas said accusatorily. "Why didn't you use those methods on me?"

"You are far too easy to pry information from," I replied. "It's not as much fun, I will admit, but easy."

"I will remember to only accept favors in return for information from now on, then," Legolas said, a rather suggestive smile playing on his lips.

"Don't let Kaethe catch you saying that," I warned.

"Must you always do that?" Legolas nearly snapped. I cocked my head at him. "I just like teasing you like old times," he admitted.

"Sorry then," I apologized, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

"Besides, even if she had overheard anything I say to you, what makes you think she would be angry?" I raised one eyebrow. "As if she doesn't know every female Elf in this Wood would give their brothers or sisters to be in her place. She would not give it up for all the gold in Middle-earth."

"That is the most pompous thing you have ever said," I replied, stunned by his sudden vanity.

"I admittedly hate being the center of attention all the time," Legolas explained. "I could do without those tittering fools following me around—"

"But in the back of your mind you know you could have any Elf woman you wanted," I finished. It was Legolas' turn to raise his eyebrow. "Well, you could."

"_Any _Elf woman?"

"Besides me," I grinned in response. Legolas nodded in a mocking manner. "You really think you could win me over?" I challenged.

"You really think I would want to?" Legolas replied, but his face betrayed him because his eyes were wandering down my dress again. Was it my imagination or did I see a hint of longing in his expression? But just as soon as I had seen it, it vanished and he smiled warmly. "Of course I could win you over."

"You just try then," I said, but my voice faltered. I was embarrassing myself. I took a deep breath before adding, "As if it would do any good. You are getting married." Legolas' eyes glazed over for a split second before he replied.

"I know. I do want you to be there. Maybe you could be the ringbearer?" As the title ran through my head I resented it, and at the time, I was unaware that it was also a title someone else would be resenting in years to come.


	7. A Walk Back

By the end of the night, many Elves had taken their leave of the Fall Festival. I had stuck around, if not solely to get my rather shaky hands on more wine, then for humor's sake; sometimes, I kept my eyes on Aragorn, who would suddenly dart under a table or hide behind a nearby tree to escape the giggling 'ladies' from the halls. Sometimes, I watched Malian, who (to my chagrin) also seemed to be watching me. Sometimes I glanced at Legolas, who was tripping over himself and stuttering like an idiot whenever Kaethe came near him. I even saw Thranduil a few times; one of the times I thought I saw him hurry away as Kaethe approached him, but I dispelled this concept as selective vision and thought on it no more. I could see many things from where I perched the rest of the night (near the wine table), and kindly disregarded any cheeky looks I received from the male sex in general. I was seriously reconsidering ever having put on the gorgeous dress.

"Excuse me, milady, I don't mean to interrupt—"

"Yes, well, if you didn't mean to then you wouldn't have," I answered shortly before flicking my eyes up at the perpetrator. I saw from the top corner of my eye a rather tall Elf (taller than usual, I mean) with long, sawdust-blonde hair and grey eyes. I had to admit to myself that he was not hard to look at, but I doubted even a Dwarf was hard to look at in such an intoxicated state. "_Well_?" I prodded, as he had taken to staring doubtfully at me.

"I had noticed you earlier and I—well, I thought you looked lonely. I wanted to keep you company, I suppose," he answered, shuffling his feet a bit and talking to the ground rather than my face. Seeing as that was possibly the sweetest thing I had heard since reaching Mirkwood, I patted the bench beside me. He obliged thankfully, taking his seat.

"What's your name?" I inquired.

"I am Féoras, son of Fáolan."

"Well Féoras-son-of-Fáolan, my name's Laina," I replied, tipping my wine glass toward him and accidentally spilling a bit of wine on his lap. I immediately thought to wipe it off, but Féoras quickly stood and did so himself, his ear tips turning a dark shade of red. "Sorry," I said after a moment. "I'm a little…"

"It's fine, milady," he said quickly, taking his seat again.

"_Laina_."

"Laina." I stared at him for a moment before he noticed and he asked hurriedly, "Do you need an escort back to the halls? I could take you." What a gentle-Elf.

"Thanks Féoras, but no thanks. You see, I'm waiting on a couple of dolts—" I motioned to Aragorn, Legolas, and Malian in turn, "—to see me back to my room. Someone has to keep an eye on them or they'll wind up walking all the way Mordor before they noticed where they were." Féoras gave a nervous sort of laugh and said no more. I leaned my head against him after a moment, and I was certain he almost died of sudden female-contact overload, but I kept my head where I had laid it and surveyed what remained of the Festival. Many of the tables had been brought back by a group of volunteers to the castle. The only tables that remained were the one Féoras and I were seated at and the one that held what wine glasses were left un-drunk. Pity. As I looked around, I noticed Malian glaring sourly at me and Féoras. Not wanting poor Féoras to get his head chopped off by any nobles, I decided enough was enough and I lifted my head. "Féoras, I see my party is leaving. It was nice to meet you." We stood simultaneously and Féoras took my hand, planting a rather frightened and hasty kiss on my knuckles before dropping the hand unceremoniously back at my side.

"Thank you for letting me sit with you," Féoras answered before turning and walking toward a rather old-looking female Elf who had a delighted look on her face. I made a mental note to find him later and ask what exactly that had been about.

"Oi, Greenleaf!" I yelled, turning back to my party of ridiculous morons. Legolas turned his head slightly to look at me before stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling to the ground. At any normal point in time, I would have laughed uncontrollably, but for some reason or another (I guessed it was the alcohol), I hurried to him and grabbed his arm to keep him steady. "You'll want to watch where you're going, eh?"

"If you hadn't called my name…I would…I'm fine," Legolas replied, trying to wrench his arm from my grasp but failing miserably. He had had called my name…I would…I'm fine," Legolas replied, trying to wrench his arm from my grasp but failing miserably. He had had far too much to drink.

"Sure you are, Leaf, sure you are," I consoled him. "Mal, Aragorn, get your stupid drunk backsides over here, will you? I think it's about time to go," I called to them over my shoulder. Malian instantly appeared at my side and we walked a few paces before Aragorn caught up with us, taking Legolas' other arm and putting it around his shoulder.

"I do not need…help…yours," Legolas muttered as Aragorn held his arm, but from what I could tell, Legolas had made no struggle to release himself from Aragorn's hold. Malian offered me his arm to hook mine into and I accepted, letting my left hand slide down Legolas' arm to his hand. To my surprise, Legolas suddenly clutched my hand forcefully, intertwining his fingers in mine. I looked at him inquisitorially but he was not looking at me; instead his eyes were fixed on his feet, his eyelids drooping dangerously, so I brushed the act off as simply drunken stupor and continued up the path to the castle, Legolas on one side and Malian on the other (one of whom was trying to get a good luck at my left hand without bending so far over so as to trip himself).

We finally reached the halls and Aragorn took his leave, dropping Legolas' arm to kiss me on the cheek before heading toward his room. I had made a mental note not to look at Malian as Aragorn did so, and Malian and I walked in the direction of Legolas' room. We passed a familiar-looking corridor and I recognized them as the steps leading down to the second floor.

"Malian, I can handle Legolas the rest of the way," I offered, stopping and unhooking my arm.

"No, I would rather make sure, he seems awfully intoxicated—" Malian started, clearly having no intention of letting me walk Legolas to his room alone.

"You're in no way helping me carry him anyway, and he's walking fine. He is only holding my hand," I replied. Malian's eyes flashed briefly before his head lowered itself in a bow.

"See you tomorrow, then," Malian said through gritted teeth.

"Don't be so silly, Malian; this crush you have on me is getting quite annoying, to tell you the truth," I answered before walking away briskly and pulling Legolas forcefully behind me, leaving Malian standing at the top of the stairs in shock (and was it slight embarrassment?).

A moment later, we reached what I recognized as Legolas' room. I pushed open the door with my foot and pulled Legolas inside. He was busy mumbling something about not wanting to sleep in his own room, but I refused to let him go to Kaethe's room (if she had one, and I was quite sure she did, and I wondered briefly where she had disappeared to far earlier than her fiancé), because he would surely embarrass himself and try to seduce the bedpost instead of Kaethe herself. I sat down on Legolas' bed, hoping Legolas would follow suit. He did. Damn, I knew this Elf too well, and after five hundred years he had not changed much.

"Okay Leaf, this is where I leave you," I said soothingly, trying to free my hand from his, but to my astonishment, he was holding on too tightly.

"Do not leave," Legolas whispered, sounding a bit suggestive. I raised one inquiring eyebrow at him and noticed that he was staring unabashedly into my eyes, his honey browns gently caressing mine. I was so close to his face I could smell the wine on his breath, and I nearly choked on my own breath as his face inched closer to mine.

"Greenleaf, what in Arda do you think you are doing?" I nearly yelled, tying desperately to jerk my hand away. This was getting a little strange.

"I just don't want to be alone," he replied softly, moving his head back a few spaces.

"Well I am quite sure I could call someone in here to take care of you if need be, but as for me, I would like to get a little bit of sleep tonight so if you could just let go—"

"I let go five hundred years ago. I never want to have to again," Legolas said softly. Well, besides the comment from Féoras, that was the sweetest statement I had heard since returning to Mirkwood.

"That's quite adorable of you, but I'm afraid we will see one another tomorrow morning, Legolas. Now let go of my hand before I clout you," I threatened very seriously. Legolas looked into my eyes for a few more moments before obliging. "Thank you, now sleep well O Prince." With that, I stood and exited, determined not to look back at him before shutting the door behind me. _Honestly_.


	8. A Walk Back AND The Battle Begins

**So I decided that since a lot of people can't see Chapter 7 (A Walk Back), I would post Chapter 8 (The Battle Begins) with Chapter 7 before it. SO! Here is A Walk Back, followed by The Battle Begins, Chapters 7 and 8. Chapter 7 might miraculously pop back up eventually, but I'll just leave it like this with this note on top so no one reads Chapter 7 twice. I hope that fixes everything!**

By the end of the night, many Elves had taken their leave of the Fall Festival. I had stuck around, if not solely to get my rather shaky hands on more wine, then for humor's sake; sometimes, I kept my eyes on Aragorn, who would suddenly dart under a table or hide behind a nearby tree to escape the giggling 'ladies' from the halls. Sometimes, I watched Malian, who (to my chagrin) also seemed to be watching me. Sometimes I glanced at Legolas, who was tripping over himself and stuttering like an idiot whenever Kaethe came near him. I even saw Thranduil a few times; one of the times I thought I saw him hurry away as Kaethe approached him, but I dispelled this concept as selective vision and thought on it no more. I could see many things from where I perched the rest of the night (near the wine table), and kindly disregarded any cheeky looks I received from the male sex in general. I was seriously reconsidering ever having put on the gorgeous dress.

"Excuse me, milady, I don't mean to interrupt—"

"Yes, well, if you didn't mean to then you wouldn't have," I answered shortly before flicking my eyes up at the perpetrator. I saw from the top corner of my eye a rather tall Elf (taller than usual, I mean) with long, sawdust-blonde hair and grey eyes. I had to admit to myself that he was not hard to look at, but I doubted even a Dwarf was hard to look at in such an intoxicated state. "_Well_?" I prodded, as he had taken to staring doubtfully at me.

"I had noticed you earlier and I—well, I thought you looked lonely. I wanted to keep you company, I suppose," he answered, shuffling his feet a bit and talking to the ground rather than my face. Seeing as that was possibly the sweetest thing I had heard since reaching Mirkwood, I patted the bench beside me. He obliged thankfully, taking his seat.

"What's your name?" I inquired.

"I am Féoras, son of Fáolan."

"Well Féoras-son-of-Fáolan, my name's Laina," I replied, tipping my wine glass toward him and accidentally spilling a bit of wine on his lap. I immediately thought to wipe it off, but Féoras quickly stood and did so himself, his ear tips turning a dark shade of red. "Sorry," I said after a moment. "I'm a little…"

"It's fine, milady," he said quickly, taking his seat again.

"_Laina_."

"Laina." I stared at him for a moment before he noticed and he asked hurriedly, "Do you need an escort back to the halls? I could take you." What a gentle-Elf.

"Thanks Féoras, but no thanks. You see, I'm waiting on a couple of dolts—" I motioned to Aragorn, Legolas, and Malian in turn, "—to see me back to my room. Someone has to keep an eye on them or they'll wind up walking all the way Mordor before they noticed where they were." Féoras gave a nervous sort of laugh and said no more. I leaned my head against him after a moment, and I was certain he almost died of sudden female-contact overload, but I kept my head where I had laid it and surveyed what remained of the Festival. Many of the tables had been brought back by a group of volunteers to the castle. The only tables that remained were the one Féoras and I were seated at and the one that held what wine glasses were left un-drunk. Pity. As I looked around, I noticed Malian glaring sourly at me and Féoras. Not wanting poor Féoras to get his head chopped off by any nobles, I decided enough was enough and I lifted my head. "Féoras, I see my party is leaving. It was nice to meet you." We stood simultaneously and Féoras took my hand, planting a rather frightened and hasty kiss on my knuckles before dropping the hand unceremoniously back at my side.

"Thank you for letting me sit with you," Féoras answered before turning and walking toward a rather old-looking female Elf who had a delighted look on her face. I made a mental note to find him later and ask what exactly that had been about.

"Oi, Greenleaf!" I yelled, turning back to my party of ridiculous morons. Legolas turned his head slightly to look at me before stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling to the ground. At any normal point in time, I would have laughed uncontrollably, but for some reason or another (I guessed it was the alcohol), I hurried to him and grabbed his arm to keep him steady. "You'll want to watch where you're going, eh?"

"If you hadn't called my name…I would…I'm fine," Legolas replied, trying to wrench his arm from my grasp but failing miserably. He had had called my name…I would…I'm fine," Legolas replied, trying to wrench his arm from my grasp but failing miserably. He had had far too much to drink.

"Sure you are, Leaf, sure you are," I consoled him. "Mal, Aragorn, get your stupid drunk backsides over here, will you? I think it's about time to go," I called to them over my shoulder. Malian instantly appeared at my side and we walked a few paces before Aragorn caught up with us, taking Legolas' other arm and putting it around his shoulder.

"I do not need…help…yours," Legolas muttered as Aragorn held his arm, but from what I could tell, Legolas had made no struggle to release himself from Aragorn's hold. Malian offered me his arm to hook mine into and I accepted, letting my left hand slide down Legolas' arm to his hand. To my surprise, Legolas suddenly clutched my hand forcefully, intertwining his fingers in mine. I looked at him inquisitorially but he was not looking at me; instead his eyes were fixed on his feet, his eyelids drooping dangerously, so I brushed the act off as simply drunken stupor and continued up the path to the castle, Legolas on one side and Malian on the other (one of whom was trying to get a good luck at my left hand without bending so far over so as to trip himself).

We finally reached the halls and Aragorn took his leave, dropping Legolas' arm to kiss me on the cheek before heading toward his room. I had made a mental note not to look at Malian as Aragorn did so, and Malian and I walked in the direction of Legolas' room. We passed a familiar-looking corridor and I recognized them as the steps leading down to the second floor.

"Malian, I can handle Legolas the rest of the way," I offered, stopping and unhooking my arm.

"No, I would rather make sure, he seems awfully intoxicated—" Malian started, clearly having no intention of letting me walk Legolas to his room alone.

"You're in no way helping me carry him anyway, and he's walking fine. He is only holding my hand," I replied. Malian's eyes flashed briefly before his head lowered itself in a bow.

"See you tomorrow, then," Malian said through gritted teeth.

"Don't be so silly, Malian; this crush you have on me is getting quite annoying, to tell you the truth," I answered before walking away briskly and pulling Legolas forcefully behind me, leaving Malian standing at the top of the stairs in shock (and was it slight embarrassment?).

A moment later, we reached what I recognized as Legolas' room. I pushed open the door with my foot and pulled Legolas inside. He was busy mumbling something about not wanting to sleep in his own room, but I refused to let him go to Kaethe's room (if she had one, and I was quite sure she did, and I wondered briefly where she had disappeared to far earlier than her fiancé), because he would surely embarrass himself and try to seduce the bedpost instead of Kaethe herself. I sat down on Legolas' bed, hoping Legolas would follow suit. He did. Damn, I knew this Elf too well, and after five hundred years he had not changed much.

"Okay Leaf, this is where I leave you," I said soothingly, trying to free my hand from his, but to my astonishment, he was holding on too tightly.

"Do not leave," Legolas whispered, sounding a bit suggestive. I raised one inquiring eyebrow at him and noticed that he was staring unabashedly into my eyes, his honey browns gently caressing mine. I was so close to his face I could smell the wine on his breath, and I nearly choked on my own breath as his face inched closer to mine.

"Greenleaf, what in Arda do you think you are doing?" I nearly yelled, tying desperately to jerk my hand away. This was getting a little strange.

"I just don't want to be alone," he replied softly, moving his head back a few spaces.

"Well I am quite sure I could call someone in here to take care of you if need be, but as for me, I would like to get a little bit of sleep tonight so if you could just let go—"

"I let go five hundred years ago. I never want to have to again," Legolas said softly. Well, besides the comment from Féoras, that was the sweetest statement I had heard since returning to Mirkwood.

"That's quite adorable of you, but I'm afraid we will see one another tomorrow morning, Legolas. Now let go of my hand before I clout you," I threatened very seriously. Legolas looked into my eyes for a few more moments before obliging. "Thank you, now sleep well O Prince." With that, I stood and exited, determined not to look back at him before shutting the door behind me. _Honestly_.

**CHAPTER 8 – The Battle Begins**

The next day I was well into forgetting any of the happenings of the night before when Legolas barged brashly into my room. I had been sitting on my bed, back against the head, reading a book I had found lying around. To my chagrin, it was mostly lofty poetry and I was almost glad for the interruption, for boredom was catching up with me quickly.

"Hello Leaf," I said without looking up. I had known the instant I heard footsteps outside my door that it was Legolas entering.

"Laina, I have been sent to retrieve you," Legolas said, commanding with his voice that I look up. I obeyed, and raised one eyebrow inquisitorially at him.

"By whom, might I ask?"

"Just come, will you?" Legolas replied impatiently. "Aragorn says it's urgent."

"Urgent?" I echoed, throwing down my book. Aragorn never said anything was urgent if it were not true. Legolas threw me an unreadable glance before rushing me forward. I could tell something was seriously wrong, but from the numerous glances Legolas was throwing, I realized it was something he would rather not say because he was afraid it would worry me. How thoughtful. I followed him out of the room and down the hallway toward the foyer, and I was so preoccupied with the fact that his hand was holding mine to pull me forward (and preoccupied also with wondering how that came to be) that I did not notice the cluster of Elves surrounding something lying on the carpeted ground. When I finally did notice anything other than my left hand, I was in the middle of the throng, standing over a bleeding Elf with an arrow through his shoulder. I recognized him immediately.

"Féoras!" I exclaimed, falling to my knees beside him. "What happened?"

"Orcs," Legolas spat, trying to back some of the gathering crowd away from the bleeding Elf. I was momentarily at a loss as to why I was the one called to the scene when I remembered that Aragorn knew I had learned much healing from Elrond himself.

"Athelas," I said immediately, looking up and seeing Aragorn. Aragorn muttered something to a few Elven soldiers behind him before he bent down beside me. The Elves took off out of the door and into the woods quicker than I could see, and Aragorn was tugging lightly at the arrow. I looked immediately to Féoras' face which was paler than I remembered, nearly matching the sawdust-blonde of his hair. His lips were a lighter shade of pink as well, and his grey eyes were closed. He had apparently passed out from either loss of blood or pain, but he was certainly not feeling anything Aragorn was doing to him at the moment. As soon as I looked back at the wound I realized the arrow was gone and instead rested on the ground beside Féoras. I looked up at Aragorn, who shrugged.

"Ranger," he said, indicating the arrowhead. He had pulled the arrow out of Féoras' shoulder without breaking the arrowhead? I was impressed, but I did not have time to marvel at it because I soon had athelas shoved into my hand and I was pressing it on the wound. Féoras' eyes blinked a few times and he opened his mouth as if to scream, but remained silent and closed his eyes tightly in agony. I released the pressure on his wound slightly to dull the pain.

"Féoras, can you hear me?" I asked loudly. Féoras could do naught but nod, and that was good enough for me. "I need something for a bandage, something to stop the bleeding," I said to no one in particular, and a bit of rough bandaging was brought to me almost immediately. I wrapped it around Féoras with some help from Aragorn and Legolas, who had picked him up to allow the wrap to reach all the way around. When I had finished bandaging the wound, a few Elves who resembled healers picked Féoras up carefully and took him away. I was still sitting on the ground for Varda only knows how long when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder.

"He'll be fine," Aragorn's voice said somewhere behind me. I turned around numbly and stared up into Aragorn's face. I noticed his face was getting closer but I was unaware that he was actually pulling me to my feet. "You helped him," Aragorn said.

"You could have done the same," I said after a while.

"I know of athelas, but have never used it," he replied momentarily. "Something tells me…" I would have asked what he was thinking but he seemed to have stumbled into something resembling deep thought and I decided it best not to disturb. I did not notice we were walking until I saw the door to my room ajar and realized we were in the hallway.

"What happened?" I asked finally as we reached the doorway. Aragorn's eyes unclouded and his silver irises were scanning me darkly. It was as if he had also forgotten where we were and who I was, and was dreading the question.

"Oh," he began, "Féoras was on patrol around the castle and, well, as far as I know he did not put up much of a fight. I was walking around aimlessly when I saw Legolas with a body flopped over his shoulder walk into the castle. I helped him lay Féoras down, and that's where you come in," he answered, deadpan. I nodded.

"What are all the Orcs doing here?" I demanded after a while of silent exasperation. "They already know where the Ring is, and it isn't here! I would rather they go to the West and find it and leave us all alone!"

"_Laina_!" Aragorn exclaimed, cupping a hand over my mouth. "Do not say that. If Sauron retrieves the Ring of Power, all of Middle-earth will fall to him. We will live in darkness."

"So why stay? We can all go to Aman, the Undying Lands and escape," I answered childishly.

"Do you think I could go there, Laina? What about the Men of Middle-earth? What about the Dwarves, the trees, the Hobbits, where should they go?" Aragorn was becoming angrier with every passing second. I could see a glimmer of flame in his silver eyes and I was at that moment certain of Aragorn's fate as King of Gondor. The fire in his eyes was so prominent at that very second that I was able to see his entire future, and I was overcome with grief at his passing, but my heart was glad for the race of Men for having such a leader. However, as soon as the vision had come it was lost, and I forgot everything I had seen in that moment. The flame passed and I was left shocked but unaware, and nothing remained in memory.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, of course we have to fight," I agreed. "I just cannot bear to see anyone hurt, Aragorn. Poor Féoras! He was so innocent."

"He _is _so innocent, Laina. Don't talk in the past tense. He will live, you know that wound was not fatal," Aragorn reassured me. I nodded.

"You are right, as usual," I said, relaxing in his presence. "But I do not want you to fight, Aragorn," I sputtered, throwing my arms around his neck and burying my face in his chest. I breathed in the filth of him, but I was comforted because the scent was so familiar to me. I felt his strong arms wrap around my back and hug me tightly. "I could not bear to see you hurt. You or anyone else."

"I will try my best not to be on the receiving end of any fatal blows," Aragorn promised, a bit of a smile playing on his lips. I smiled too despite myself and freed my body from his grip.

"You better, or I'll have your head," I replied. Aragorn gave me a feigned frightened look and rubbed his neck as if someone had sliced his throat. I giggled in reply.

"I know what just happened was a bit, well, alarming, but would you like to accompany me to breakfast?" Aragorn asked, sticking out his arm so I could link mine in his. I looked at him thankfully.

"I guess I _am _hungry," I agreed, slipping my arm through his and allowing him to lead me in the direction of the dining hall. "I hope there is no 'royal breakfast' this morning," I announced after a bit. "I don't think I could handle any of those tittering nitwits today." Aragorn chuckled.

"No, I think not," he concurred, and to my pleasure, the dining hall was nearly empty when we arrived. Only a few Elves remained, and I recognized none of them, so Aragorn and I sat down at places with food still set up in front of them and dug in.

Later that day, I found myself visiting the newest addition to the halls of Mirkwood – the hospital wing. I had never ventured into the wing before, seeing as it was on the bottom level of the castle and had not been used since the War of the Last Alliance, in which many of the formerly-named Greenwood Elves had taken part. The wing was a bit dusty and the air quite stale, but there were rows of beds, the linens on which must have been washed recently because they were a blinding white. Only one bed lay occupied, and I constantly stood near, watching the healers come in and out, doting on Féoras. He had opened his eyes and by now was chatting as animatedly as possible, both for his condition and for his reserve.

"Thank you," he was saying for the fifteenth time that afternoon. I had taken to rolling my eyes at his gratitude; a little was worthwhile, but after hearing it so many times my pointed ears might fall off, I was beginning to get a little annoyed.

"For the last time Féoras, stop thanking me. Anyone could have done it. I just so happened to be the Elf Aragorn suggested," I insisted, plopping into a chair beside his bed and waving off the thanks. Féoras said nothing but eyed me for a bit before relaxing and turning his sawdust-blonde head to face up. I looked up with him, noticing the stark white of the ceiling above us, and I was examining the walls when I felt two hands slink over my eyes. I giggled. "Aragorn, you're a bit predictable," I said, forcing his hands away and turning around. To my surprise, a rather taken aback Elf was standing behind me, his honey browns eyeing me suspiciously.

"As if a human could ever be as stealth as an Elf," Legolas mused. I shook my head, smiling, and watched as Legolas walked passed me and to Féoras' bed. "How are you, Féoras? Recovering with the help of a beautiful Elf woman at your side?" Cheek.

"Please, Leaf, none of us see any such thing around here," I asserted, moving to stand beside him. Féoras smiled slightly.

"You saved my life, Prince Legolas," he whispered, clearly about to drift off into sleep.

"Say nothing more of it," Legolas insisted, "and sleep." Féoras' eyelids closed and Legolas and I stood beside his bed, looking down upon him for a while before I felt Legolas' fingertips move slowly down my arm to take my hand. He squeezed it and smiled, nodding toward the door that left the hospital wing. I nodded in agreement and he pulled me gently outside the hospital wing and into the corridor. "You helped this morning," Legolas said as we walked down the hall together, hand-in-hand.

"I am really surprised how dense you all are, not thinking to immediately send someone for athelas," I replied matter-of-factly. Legolas grinned.

"Good thing you listen to herbs lessons, then?"

"And he would have been healed earlier if you ever had," I answered. Legolas chuckled, squeezing my hand again.

"You did learn from the best. How would you like to come watch my archery practice?" If I found the suggestion incredibly dull (and let's just say for a moment that I _certainly _did), I did not let on. In fact, I decided spending an afternoon with one of my favorite Elves would surely take my mind off the bleeding Elf I had seen this afternoon.

"Make sure you're good enough not to ever let happen to you what happened to Féoras," I suggested. Legolas nodded in agreement. As we rounded the corner, we both saw Malian walking briskly toward us and moved our hands apart so quickly I was convinced Malian had not even noticed.

"Archery practice?" Malian asked, quickly hiding the suspicious glare in his blue eyes.

"Coming, coming," Legolas answered in a monotone. "I'm bringing Laina." Malian raised one questioning eyebrow at us but said nothing, instead turning on his heel and leading both of us to the archery range. I was wondering why Malian had ignored my presence completely when I realized what I had said to him the night before. I winked at Legolas before hurrying to catch up to Malian.

"Mal, I didn't mean what I said—"

"Forget it, Laina," Malian replied, cutting me off.

"No, I was being foolish," I insisted. Malian turned his head sharply toward me and glared.

"You most certainly were," he growled. "To think, you assuming such things when I…I just…I just want to protect you. You have been gone far too long, Laina. You do not know how noble blood works. I am just trying to keep you from getting hurt."

I was too shocked momentarily to say anything, but I had to get something out, so I eventually said, "Just because I have been gone for five hundred years doesn't give you the privilege of babying me, Malian."

"_Babying _you?" Malian yelled, aggravated. He stopped in his tracks, causing Legolas to run right into him and the both of them toppled to the floor. Malian's ear tips turned a bright shade of red as he stood to brush himself off. "_Watch _where you're going, Greenleaf," he spat. Legolas stood up, an apologetic look on his face.

I looked at the two of them angrily and decided to ignore Legolas completely. "Just what in Arda are you protecting me from, anyway, Malian? What exactly _don't _I know about noble blood? Spending enough time with you two has taught me just about everything I need to know – that you're all completely full of yourselves and I should never associate with any of you again!" Of course, I certainly hadn't meant half of what I had just said, but everything came out so fast that I could not stop myself. Legolas was looking rather hurt and irate at the aforesaid words, but Malian was positively fuming.

"As if we would ever have time for peasants such as yourself!" Malian yelled, but Legolas swatted him on the head before he could say any more.

"I don't know what on Middle-earth is wrong with the two of you, but snap out of it!" Legolas interjected. "Neither of you are quite as high-and-mighty as you have just appeared to be, so shut up!"

I immediately calmed, letting the anger wash over me and leaving it behind. "Sorry Mal," I said after a moment of silence, in which Malian still stood seething. He looked up at me sharply before looking at Legolas and stalking off in the direction of the archery range. "What was he talking about, noble blood?" I asked Legolas as we both stood looking after him.

"I have no idea," Legolas answered, shrugging before following Malian, leaving me to trail, confused, behind.


	9. Training

**For reference purposes, I have to backtrack and say this story started in around the year 2509 of the Third Age. When Laina and Aragorn return to Mirkwood, the year is 3009 of the Third Age, which is the year of this chapter as well ( if you've been paying attention ;-) ). Now, onward.**

Twelve days later, Malian was still refusing to talk to me. Féoras had healed just fine and was released from the hospital wing and allowed to patrol once more, and I was now attending archery practice nearly every day. On this day, I was watching intently as Legolas knocked a bow in his arrow and shot at a target fifty yards away. The arrow zoomed so fast I almost could not see it, and it hit the target slightly off-center. I whistled, impressed.

"That's the closest I have ever seen you get," I called to Legolas. I received a proud grin from him and turned my attention to Aragorn, who had taken to attending as well, but not solely to watch. He knocked an arrow in his bow too, not nearly as gracefully as Legolas had done, and shot his at the target. I saw the arrow fly cleanly in the right direction and hit the target on its right side, causing it to wobble. "Nice shot, Aragorn," I said in his direction. He clearly did not agree with my call of encouragement because he threw his bow disgustedly on the ground and walked over to where I sat against a tree.

"Damn this archery, I'm much better with a knife or sword," he grumbled, sitting down unhappily beside me. I giggled.

"All of us cannot be as handy with a bow and arrow as our handsome little Elf over there," I said, indicating Legolas, who had just let another arrow fly only slightly closer to the center of the target. I heard him swear loudly under his breath before picking up another arrow quickly and aiming.

"I'd like to see you try," Aragorn countered, shrugging off the nearly dead-center arrow Legolas had just sent flying. I raised one eyebrow at him. "You couldn't even hit the target," he teased. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Sure," Aragorn replied, a smile playing on his lips.

"Fine," I said, standing and walking over to Aragorn's pile of arrows. I could feel his amused eyes on me as I picked up his bow, grabbing the handle steadily and knocking an arrow. I pulled the string back tentatively and closed one eye, aiming as best I could at the target. If I had realized that nearly every Elf (and Man) on the archery range was now staring unabashedly at me, I probably would not have let the string go, but as it were, I was concentrating very hard and was unaware of the intrigued stares I was receiving. Legolas had even stopped shooting off arrows and was now standing, dumbfounded, his bow at his side, watching me. As soon as the target came into what I believed was the path of my arrow, I released the string. I watched as the arrow soared toward the target. It came close to it, but did not hit the target and instead flew right past it. I did not see the shake of Aragorn's head and instead, determined, picked up another arrow and knocked it more quickly into the bow. I aimed and shot, watching the arrow fly unwaveringly toward the target. This time I heard a distinct _thud _and saw, to my surprise (and to everyone else's), my arrow quavering, its head stuck in the target, closer to the center than Aragorn's had been. I stood speechless for a moment, watching the arrow until it stopped shaking, and finally turned to see all focused on me.

Aragorn's eyes were wide and disbelieving. Legolas' eyes were of a similar vein, and his mouth was hanging open ever-so-slightly. Even Malian had been watching, and he was now smiling outright at my arrow that was stuck resolutely in the target. Legolas dropped his bow and grinned, running over to me and picking me up, twirling me around. I ignored the rather disapproving glare Malian threw and instead laughed out loud when Legolas put me back on my feet.

"You're a natural!" he exclaimed, thumping me on the nose. I raised a warning finger in his direction before laughing and turning toward Aragorn. He shook his head in disbelief before standing and walking over to me.

"Who taught you archery behind my back?" Aragorn teased. I shrugged, rather proud of myself. I saw Legolas nod his head in Aragorn's direction, almost a bow, and Aragorn returned the favor. I guessed that since the last all-out fight, they realized they had more in common than previously imagined. Even Malian came up and tried his damnedest not to glower in Aragorn's direction.

"Good shot," he mumbled, mussing my hair a bit. "Sorry about everything."

"I have already forgotten," I replied with a smile, reaching up to fix my hair before throwing my arms around Malian's neck. "Stop this angry nonsense, okay? You know I love you," I said into his shirt. I could feel his smile broaden to a beam as I hugged him.

"I saw you shooting Malian. You should try to aim from your strong side. You will hit the target more evenly that way," Legolas suggested, a bit stiffly. I knew that if my arms were not still around Malian's neck he would have retorted angrily, but as it were, he merely shrugged.

"Thanks, I'll try that," he replied. I let go of his neck to allow Legolas and Malian to shake hands.

"That's right, don't let an Elf woman come between friends," Aragorn chortled. I was quick to notice Malian narrow his eyes briefly before returning to his normal, smiling self.

"Never," Malian agreed, clasping Legolas' shoulder and pulling him into a hug. It was adorable, really, and I beamed at my three favorite males in Middle-earth as they all smiled at one another.

--------------------------------------

"You're holding it a bit stiffly," Aragorn was saying as I held a sword out in front of me. Ever since my lucky arrow-shooting, Aragorn, Legolas, and Malian had taken to teaching me to fight. The training was rather demanding but also useful, seeing as more and more patrols reported Orc sightings near Mirkwood's borders. I sighed, exasperated, and tried to loosen my grip a bit. The sword wobbled unsteadily in my hand, and soon became so heavy that it slipped from my grip and fell with a _clang _to the wooden floor.

"I just don't think I will prove any better at fighting with a sword," I grumbled as Aragorn picked it up and handed it back to me. He rolled his silver eyes as I grabbed the hilt ineptly and tightened my fingers around it. The sword felt uncomfortable in my hand, and as soon as Aragorn straightened my arm I let it fall to my side, dropping the sword once again.

"You could _try_," Aragorn suggested, sighing unhappily.

"I'm sorry Aragorn, but I think I am much better equipped to fight with a bow and arrow or knife," I admitted, knowing Aragorn was a bit hurt that the one weapon he enjoyed so much was impossible for me to learn.

"You _have _gotten great at archery," Aragorn confessed, picking up his sword and swinging it around a bit, causing a slight, ringing _whoosh _to fill the air. I half-smiled at him, impressed. "I think I'll stick with this."

"Good idea," I agreed, loosening my strawberry blonde hair from the tie I had around it. Aragorn stared for a moment before I raised one sarcastic eyebrow at him. "My arms are just too sore to swing that thing around," I sighed. "Legolas has me training with a bow twice a day, and Malian insists I put in a bit of time with a small knife at least three times a week," I said aloud, calculating. "I'm not sure how much of this I can take."

"Within no time you will be joining the guard," Aragorn mused, thrusting the sword into its sheath. I smiled proudly.

"You think so?"

"If they let any lady patrol, it will be you," he answered. I wanted to thump him on the nose for terming me a 'lady,' but I guessed the word applied for lack of any other, so I let it slide. This time. I slumped against the wall, supporting my tired body, and looked at Aragorn, who seemed deep in thought.

"Thinking about Arwen?" I asked. Aragorn's silver eyes turned to me and he shrugged, a rather sheepish smile upon his dirty face. "When do you plan to return?"

"Whenever you're ready," he answered eagerly, but he obviously had not caught the suggestion I was hoping to imply.

"I will never be ready," I replied, looking down at my feet. I had thought about the consequences of staying for days, and had only just recently come to a conclusion. Aragorn cocked his head at me in question. "I'm not going back, not now at least." Aragorn's eyes widened and he hurried over to me, wrapping both arms around my back.

"You intend to stay while I go?" he wondered aloud. I nodded. "Just what will a lone Ranger do without an Elven maiden to guide him?" I could hear the slight sarcasm in his voice and I thumped his nose.

"_Honestly_, as if Arwen won't be there," I said, rolling my eyes. Aragorn smiled mischievously.

"Who will I play with?" he asked tentatively

"You'll manage," I smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek softly. He let his hand quickly reach for the spot my lips had been, and his eyes clouded momentarily before becoming again clear and warm. A small smile spread across his face and he pulled me against him gently, leaning in and placing his lips to mine, kissing me tenderly. I did not struggle, because we both understood the meaning of it, having known each other since Aragorn could crawl. Of course (because things tend to happen like this), the door to the room in which we had been practicing was opened and in strode none other than the Prince of Mirkwood, or, as I prefer to call him at his most presumptuous, the Prince of Audacity.

The moment between Aragorn and I had been effectively ruined, and we broke apart unwillingly to attempt to explain to the intruder exactly why an Elf and a to-be-bound Man were interlocked as we were; but Legolas, being the Prince of Impudence as he was, took one look at us, furrowed his brow slightly, and hurried out, no doubt to run to tell all of Middle-earth what he had just seen. Aragorn and I watched after him for a moment before making simultaneous mental notes to cut off Legolas' ears later, and we turned back to one another, smiling impishly.

"That damned Prince," Aragorn muttered, a grin still playing on his lips. I grinned back.

"He always knows when best to make a fool of himself," I agreed, but we both forgot it as we looked into one another's eyes again.

"I'll miss you," Aragorn whispered, studying my face with his silver eyes.

"When will I see you again?" I asked almost childishly, pouting a little and looking down at our feet. Aragorn put one finger under my chin and lifted my head, examining my eyes with his.

"I promise we will see each other soon," he answered, sincerity in his voice. I nodded, trying my hardest not to cry. I had been with this Man's mother when he was being born, and he had been the most gorgeous baby. Since then, I had never left his side and I had not intended to, but the pull of Mirkwood was so strong in me at the moment I did not have the peace of mind to return to Imladris just yet.

"When do you leave, then?" I asked, looking down once more.

"In a few days' time, I suppose," Aragorn answered, and I could not help hearing the slight relief in his voice. He must miss Arwen terribly. I nodded and Aragorn tilted my head up once more, planting another kiss on my lips before letting me go and, looking at me meaningfully, exited the room. We were both dreading the moment we would have to say farewell.


	10. Encounters at the Archery Range

**I know, I know...it's been far too long. I feel ridiculous even updating this after so long. I've been incredibly busy - who knew college would be so much work? ;-) Anyway, I don't want anyone to think I've lost interest because I still fully plan on finishing this fanfiction - but every now and then (or...very often, really) I'll be on hiatus. Just keep an eye on it because I promise to update as often as I can. I hope you haven't forgotten what's been going on!**

**-----**

That afternoon I was forced to walk myself to the archery range because Legolas never retrieved me from my room. I shook my head as I approached, coughing loudly to alert Legolas of my presence. I had coughed at the opportune moment it seemed, because Legolas had been aiming carefully before I startled him; he clumsily turned away from the target and to look back at me, letting the string go and sending the arrow in the wrong direction. I heard a colorful curse from across the range, and Legolas and I both turned to see an arrow sticking out of the ground near Malian's feet. Legolas sent him a sheepish smile and apologetic wave before putting down his bow and walking over to me briskly.

"I have nothing to show you today," Legolas growled under his breath. "Damn you Laina, I nearly shot Malian!"

"Well that's your own damn fault, isn't it? If you would have come to pick me up this afternoon I would not have had to barge onto the range like this," I replied, annoyed at his dimwittedness.

"I did not come because I have nothing to teach you," he answered, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Do you have nothing to teach me because you assume too much about Aragorn and me?" I asked.

"I assume nothing, I saw enough," Legolas spat.

"You know _nothing_, you idiot Prince-of-an-Elf! Honestly, how anyone could call you _responsible _enough to be Prince of Mirkwood is beyond me," I snarled. Legolas looked a bit taken aback, but I continued. "Aragorn and I have known each other for a very long time! He is leaving soon, and the kiss meant nothing except that we love each other—as _friends_! Besides, I don't see why it's any business of yours whether I'm kissing Aragorn or a snaggletoothed Orc! What's it to you?" I yelled at him.

"Aragorn has the heart of another, Laina. If I were to walk in upon Kaethe kissing another Elf—or a _Man_, for Varda's sake—"

"You _might _know her well enough to know a kiss could mean absolutely nothing!" I replied heatedly. "I should have gone with Aragorn! It was stupid of me to stay here," I concluded, turning from Legolas to stalk away, but he grabbed my wrist in protest and pulled me back.

"I apologize," he said, looking me sincerely in the eyes. I studied his honey browns for a moment before rolling my eyes at him. I was surprised at his ability to apologize so genuinely one minute when just a moment before, he was yelling. "You might be right, I suppose. If you tell me you do not love Aragorn, then I believe you."

"Honestly Leaf, try to show a bit of humility from now on. It looks good on you," I suggested, still a little rattled at his stupidity. "Of course I don't love Aragorn! Not like _that _anyway," I scoffed. "What do you care, though, Leaf? What if I did love Aragorn?"

"I just think love is sacred," Legolas admitted. "If I ever felt my love for Kaethe wavering…" his voice trailed off, and he was obviously lost in thought. I thumped his nose to get him back. He looked down at me, a smile on his pretty face. "I would just want you both to know for sure before breaking another Elf's heart. An Elf's heart is not easily repaired, and Arwen does not deserve such an end if she has as Aragorn says, pledged her love to him," he explained solemnly before another sly grin crept upon his face. "Besides, to let you give up your immortality for something as dirty as _that_?" he joked.

"As if I ever could," I laughed. "You really care that much about me?" Legolas furrowed his brow at the question, considering.

"Laina, I know we have not known each other for the last five hundred years, but I missed you every day. We were close when we were young," he answered earnestly. I smiled and nodded.

"I missed you too, Leaf," I admitted. "Can we ever be that close again? I mean, with Kaethe and you to be bound, will you have time?"

"It is yet a few years before we are bound," Legolas said. "I know that does not seem like long enough to regain a friendship we spent fifteen long years building, but I think we can try." I nodded in agreement, my heart nearly melting with all the sincerity floating around. This was ridiculous.

"On second thought," I said, grinning, "who would want to be friends with the likes of Your Denseness?" Legolas stifled at laugh, wrapping his strong, archer arms around my waist and pulling me close for a hug. "You silly Elf, let me go before Malian sees and starts his rant on 'noble blood' or whatever in Arda he's always on about," I said into Legolas' tunic, squirming in his grasp. He laughed again before letting me go, his brown eyes flashing momentarily before grabbing my hand, squeezing it, and walking back to his bow. I glanced at Malian who, it seemed, was too busy aiming to have seen Legolas and I hug. I sighed in relief and walked toward Legolas, who was motioning for me at his side.

------------------------------------------

The next two days were spent with Aragorn. I followed him everywhere, not willing to let a moment pass in which we could be together. I rather think Aragorn found it a bit annoying after an entire day (and the night I spent in his bed, but we only cuddled, nothing more) with me at his heels, but if he was even a bit irritated, he did not let on; instead, he held my hand as we walked side-by-side, hoping never to have to let go.

His last day came upon us quickly, and, after saying his farewells to Thranduil, Legolas, Malian, and a few others he had met during his stay, Aragorn wrapped his arms around me for the last time in a while. I looked up at him, tears in my eyes.

"I wish you wouldn't go," I said pleadingly, and Aragorn kissed my forehead softly in front of at least twenty Elves (including Malian, but I avoided his glare).

"I must, you know that. This is not goodbye," he replied, letting me go. I could not say anything more, and I watched him mount his horse and nod to all of us before turning his horse around and riding it into the wood. I tried not to cry as I watched him disappear.

-------------------------------------

"You should really stop sulking, it's not a good look on you," I heard Legolas say from my doorway. I looked up sardonically at him, raising one eyebrow in protest. "Why don't you come to the archery range? I can teach you a few things before the day is out," he suggested, smiling a bit awkwardly.

"I think I would rather sit in here and sulk all day," I replied sarcastically, not moving from my bed.

"Come with me," Legolas demanded sulkily.

"Where's Kaethe?" was my dry reply. It was Legolas' turn to throw me a sarcastic look.

"She's…well, she's…um," he stuttered.

"Has she fallen off the face of Arda, then?" I asked, looking away from him and down at my book as if Kaethe actually falling off the face of Arda would not concern me in the least.

"No…well…I don't really know where she is," Legolas admitted. I looked back up at him with a rather cheeky grin on my face.

"Hm, she must be avoiding you," I proposed, closing my book and putting it down beside me on the bed before standing up and taking Legolas' arm. He did not reply, but instead smiled impertinently at me and led me to the archery range.

We reached the range to see Malian and Féoras standing next to each other, talking in low voices. I spotted Kaethe rather near them; she was pacing around trying to look inconspicuous as Legolas and I approached.

"Kaethe, I could not find you earlier," Legolas said importantly. He had long since dropped my arm.

"I was waiting for you here," she replied breathily. Malian and Féoras had stopped talking and were eyeing the three of us expectantly.

"What in Arda are you two staring at?" I yelled in their direction. They looked at one another, sharing a knowing glance, and walked over to us. I was observing them suspiciously, and was about to ask them just why in Varda's name they were looking all fishy, but Kaethe's nervous breathing interrupted me.

"Are you feeling well, Kaethe?" Legolas asked, a hint of worry in his voice. She nodded without a verbal response. Malian was looking rather red in the ears, I noticed.

"Embarrassed about something, Mal?" I questioned warily, narrowing my eyes at him. Malian shrugged but did not answer.

"Has everyone in Mirkwood forgotten how to speak, then?" Legolas wondered aloud, obviously irritated. I wanted to smile at him but I found it inappropriate at the moment, so I refrained and just looked at him proudly instead.

"How are you, Lady Laina?" Féoras asked, clearly wanting to skip over whatever suspicions Legolas and I were clearly sharing. Kaethe at the archery range without Legolas, and Malian red in the ears for no apparent reason? The situation seemed rather comical at the time.

"Just _Laina_, please," I answered. "And I'm fine Féoras, only a little taken aback by all the secrecy around here." I glanced at Malian and Kaethe, who were both staring at their feet interestedly, as if a hundred thousand Orcs were crawling over them. I was seriously shocked at the pink color of Malian's ears, and I cocked my head at him incredulously. I had an inkling, but it could not be…it could not have ever been. No. It was ridiculous. All that ran through my head were Malian's words, 'noble blood…'

"Secrecy?" Malian echoed, looking up from his Orc-covered toes and throwing me an almost pleading glance but there was a hint of something I did not recognize. If the glance had been any longer, I could have distinguished it, but as it were (incredibly quickly), it was unreadable. All I saw was a fleeting pleading look, but I could have been imagining it, so I let it go.

"Kaethe, it is much too cool out here, you are flushed," Legolas said after a moment. I wanted to clout him for being so dense, but thought better of it—I was always the paranoid one, and maybe I was looking too deeply into Malian's red ears and Kaethe's pink cheeks.

"I am a bit cold," Kaethe agreed, shivering slightly. I raised one eyebrow at her, for it was not nearly as cold outside as it had been recently, but again, I was much too paranoid, so I let it slide.

"Let me escort you back to the halls," Legolas suggested, reaching out for her hand. She bowed her head in his direction before taking his hand and allowing him to walk her up to the castle. Malian, Féoras, and I stood awkwardly together, watching Legolas and Kaethe return up the path to the halls.

After a while, I turned a questioning glare to Malian. "Did you and Kaethe come to the archery range together?" I asked guardedly.

"No…well, maybe…yes, she…she wanted fresh air…" Malian was stumbling over his words as if trying to come up with some sort of excuse. I was shocked.

"If I wanted a _lie_, Mal, I would have asked for one," I spat. "I thought you thought she was dense," I reminded him pointedly.

"I _do_," Malian replied unconvincingly. "I did…" he mumbled before trailing off and looking at his feet again.

"You pretended to, more like," I corrected, narrowing my eyes again. Malian's blue eyes flashed in my direction, and Féoras stood in the same place, his stance ever-steadfast.

"I don't know what you mean," Malian said, more convincingly this time. I squinted one eye at him.

"Fine, keep your secrets," I replied, admittedly shaken at the lack of trust Malian clearly had in me.

"I have no secrets to share," Malian stated, his eyes a careful shade of apathy.

"Right," I replied nastily, choosing to remain skeptical. I turned on my heel after throwing Malian another spiteful glance and stalked off in the direction of the halls. I had to take this up with Legolas. Was he really as dense as Kaethe, or was I really just so paranoid that anything from a leaf blowing to a silent tree meant Middle-earth would fall to the clutches of some evil being? Maybe I was being stupid, but then again—maybe I was right.


	11. Betrayal

I reached the halls but was unsure of where to turn. On one hand, I was quite sure I did not want to walk in on anything inappropriate, but I was also convinced by that time that I was right and Legolas was a moron. He had to know.

I paused for a moment, wondering where exactly Kaethe's room was located. I raised my eyebrows at the thought that suddenly occurred to me; Kaethe probably shared a room with Legolas, if I was not mistaken. I decided that the best plan of action was to go to Legolas' room, so I hurried off in that direction.

My feet carried me a bit too rapidly to Legolas' door, and I felt foolish knocking (when usually I would barge in, being as close to Legolas as I had once been), but I did so anyway out of courtesy. The door opened almost immediately to reveal Legolas alone in his room and looking slightly paler than usual.

"Come in, Laina," he said, and if my ears weren't fooling me, he sounded a bit disheveled. I obliged, looking at him awkwardly and watching as he closed the door slowly behind me.

"Leaf, are you alright?" I asked, but as soon as I had said it, he returned to normal—his skin darkened and his eyes cleared.

"Of course, what do you need?" Well, he was still being a bit too formal.

"I just—well, I wanted to say that I thought—Leaf, where is Kaethe?" I stuttered. "And why are you being so strange?"

"I'm not being strange," Legolas replied, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes at me before flopping on his bed. I noticed the way his thigh muscles gave an appreciative ripple as they hit the bed and I caught myself staring before replying.

"Don't you think Mal and Kaethe were being a little—I don't know—odd?" I wondered aloud, sitting down on the bed on the spot Legolas was enthusiastically patting.

"No, what makes you say that?" he asked, raising one perfect eyebrow at me. I stared into his honey brown eyes, looking for any indication that he actually did think something was strange, but instead I saw nothing. He really _was_ that thick.

"Well, why was Kaethe with Mal at the archery range in the first place? Doesn't Kaethe hate watching you train?" I suggested, my voice raising a bit as I thought of the unusual coincidences. "And why were they both staring at their feet when we confronted them?"

"They were just being shy," Legolas answered unconvincingly. I wanted to clout him.

"_Shy_? Malian being _shy_? Leaf, don't be ridiculous," I said. "You sounded suspicious when we walked up. Why are you all of a sudden so sure that nothing was going on?"

"Going on? What would be going on?" he asked angrily, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Oh, Leaf, don't give me that look," I replied irately. "You know as well as I do that the whole situation was peculiar. Since when do Kaethe and Malian even get along? I thought he thought her completely idiotic."

"He was only making conversation," Legolas answered. I could tell he was a bit annoyed with my suggestions, but I was unwilling to give up completely.

"Leaf, I know you trust Malian and I know you trust Kaethe, but don't you trust me too?" At this, Legolas looked at me sharply, a hint of worry in his eyes. For a fleeting moment I thought he was going to pull me into his arms and nurse my feelings back to health, but the moment passed and he cocked his head at me. "I mean, don't you trust my instincts?"

"Of course I trust _you_, Laina," Legolas began slowly. "Your instincts, however, have not always been up to par…"

"Damned Prince!" I replied, picking up the nearest object I could to throw at him. It just so happened to be a book, and he ducked in time to save his princely head from serious injury; I threw the book pretty hard.

"Seriously, Laina," Legolas said after grinning at me cheekily. "Nothing outside of the ordinary is happening, especially not with Malian and Kaethe," he assured me. I raised one cynical eyebrow at him and he returned it, his face a mirror-image of mine. I rolled my eyes at him and looked away, only to feel one of his hands slide down my arm and pull at it childishly. I looked back at him warily before letting his strong arms pull me closer to wrap themselves around me tightly.

"Not with Malian and Kaethe, I suppose, but what would Kaethe think if she walked in right now?" I asked dryly. Legolas did not reply; instead he put his chin on my shoulder (as my back was to him) and rubbed his cheek on my hair. I must have imagined a slight tingle run down my body (this was Legolas, for Varda's sake), and I must have also imagined Legolas taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, as if taking in the moment. A few seconds later and the moment had passed and Legolas loosened his hold on me to finally let me go. I turned to look at him and saw his eyes faintly clouding; I cocked my head at him as he had done at me a moment ago, trying to read his thoughts. When we had been such good friends five-hundred years ago, I found myself able to hear what he was thinking, able to sense his emotions. Now, I picked up changes in his mood, but was unable to tell exactly what was running through his head. We both stayed silent for quite some time, studying each other, but I finally broke the silence. "Leaf?"

"Yes?" he answered, deadpan, still staring at me.

"Nevermind," I replied, standing and brushing myself off, trying to erase all baffling thoughts from my mind.

"Are you leaving?" Legolas asked, blinking and looking apathetic, though his question betrayed his tone of voice.

"Just going back to my room, I suppose," I responded. "See you later?" I meant it to be a statement, but it came out as an almost pleading question.

"Right," Legolas agreed, nodding. I hurried out of the room, desperate to escape the awkwardness that still hung in the air, thick enough to send an arrow through.

----------------------------------

Shortly after I left Legolas' room, I caught myself pacing the corridors. The more I paced, the more I thought about Malian and Kaethe and the more convinced I became. I rarely saw Legolas and Kaethe together, and perhaps the disgusted glares Malian threw at Legolas when he was so much as holding Kaethe's hand had not been because he disapproved of Kaethe—perhaps it had been that he disapproved of _Legolas_. Before, I had always shrugged it off as Malian's way of making me laugh, because I had thought the two of us shared a love of disliking Kaethe for her lack of intelligence and altogether ditziness; but what if I had been wrong? What if the revolted glares had been because Malian was—dare I think it?—in _love_ with Kaethe?  
With every step I took, I believed it more. Of course! Kaethe's rather sheepish looks as she allowed Legolas to take her hand. Malian's insecurity. As I tried to piece the puzzle together, the most important bit slowly fell into place. When I remembered, I suddenly stopped pacing and allowed my mouth to fall open unattractively. How had I missed it before?

"'You do not know how noble blood works…I am just trying to keep you from getting hurt.'" I said the words aloud as if I had heard them just yesterday. I shook my head in disbelief before deciding on instinct to head directly to Malian's room, pronto. My feet hurried me there and I stood outside what I recognized as his door, hesitantly waiting to knock. I bit my lip and raised my hand a few times in preparation until suddenly deciding that knocking was not the best option. If I wanted to know the truth, I would have to catch them. I highly doubted that Malian would answer his door with Kaethe attached to him, so instead I took a deep breath and pushed the door open hastily.  
I cannot say I was fully prepared for what I saw, because despite the fact that I had figured it out, I still half expected to be wrong. I definitely wanted to be wrong, for Legolas' sake. Yet, however unreasonable some of my suspicious had proven to be, this particular one had led me in the right direction. I do not know how long I stood in the doorway after Malian and Kaethe had pulled apart, clearly astonished that I had barged in the room. I could see the thoughts brewing in Malian's head, excuses for exactly why his lips had been attached to Kaethe's a moment previously. Kaethe looked dumbfounded, which had become a usual look for her so I could not tell whether or not she was _actually_ dumbfounded. All I could do was stand there, looking at the two of them sitting on Malian's bed, fingers entwined. They had not bothered to pull apart completely; they knew I had seen.   
"Laina…" Malian started, but I raised my hand in protest. I did not want to hear it. What could possibly excuse Malian for betraying Legolas like this? Malian did not seem to comprehend the fact that I wanted nothing to do with him at the moment and much less wanted to hear his voice, so he continued. "Listen…"

"Mal," I interrupted. "Please." I turned to walk out of the room, but Malian had sprung from his bed and caught my arm.  
"Let me defend myself, Laina," Malian growled. I could not understand why _he _was angry. When Legolas found out, he would surely cut off Malian's head, which is exactly what I was thinking of doing at that point; however, I had no choice other than to let Malian talk because his grip was so tight around my wrist that I was unable to free myself. Besides, if he had something to alleviate the accusations that would be thrown his way, he might as well have said it. I narrowed my eyes at him disgustedly but said nothing, allowing him to continue. "I have always loved Kaethe. I have loved her from the moment I met her, after you left Mirkwood."

"So why didn't you just _tell _Legolas from the start? I doubt he would have minded much _then_!" I spat.

"_Let me finish_!" Malian yelled, pulling me back into the room and shutting the door behind me. I was furious at this point and could not help but throw a disapproving glare at Kaethe, who still sat in the same place looking stupefied. I turned my gaze carefully back to Malian, whose blue eyes were wide and red, his eyebrows knit into a serious expression. "I did tell Legolas. I told him that I loved her, but he and I both shrugged it off as innocent young love. I convinced myself that I could not love at that age, and that I would let it slide. Years later, my feelings had not been suppressed. Admittedly, Legolas did not know this. One day, Legolas approached me after a talk with his father and was quite upset: it turns out that Kaethe's father had a sort of plan for Legolas' marriage. You see, Kaethe would make a wonderful queen one day, or so Kaethe's parents believed. Of course, King Thranduil would never suggest Legolas betray his own emotions, but if Legolas were to be unable to find anyone worthy of his love, he was to try to get to know Kaethe and ask for her hand in marriage, for it is a smart match." Malian took a deep breath, glancing at Kaethe with rather loving eyes. I wanted to punch him in the face.

"Legolas had completely forgotten about my silly crush on Kaethe years ago, and admitted Kaethe's beauty. He finally decided to get to know her, and began to spend more and more time with her. I was jealous. Kaethe and I had always been the closer friends, and I decided to let my love be known. I took her aside and confessed that I loved her, and she told me she felt the same way but did not dare disloyalty to her father, for he wanted the best for her, and the best is to be queen. I let her go, but nothing has ever been able to stop me from loving her, Laina. I know you understand." Malian finished, releasing my wrist with a sigh. I shook my head at him.

"Why would I understand?" I whispered. Malian gave me a sort of knowing glance which I could not decipher, but I decided to ignore it. "Legolas is your best friend, Malian. If you had only told him before it was too late! If you had told him before he decided to get to know her, he would have found some other way!" My voice was rising but I could not stop myself.

"There _is _no other way! Kaethe could not marry _me_, Laina, not with the expectations of her father! He would never allow it!"

"So you would rather keep your feelings a secret? You would rather betray your friend and go behind his back with the Elf to whom he is to be bound?" I was yelling now.

"What else was I to do, Laina?" Malian yelled back.

"_ANYTHING EXCEPT BETRAY YOUR FRIEND_!"

"_What_? Was I to forget my love for her?" Malian's eyes were clouding and I stood up, flushed.

"If that's what it takes, _yes_!"

"Have you ever been in love, Laina? _Have you_?" I shook my head furiously. "Then you cannot understand." I glared at Malian once more before turning on my heel and stalking out of the room. I was going to find Legolas.


	12. The Truth

I felt like all of it was happening too fast. One moment, Legolas and I were walking to the archery range, and the next, I catch Malian with his tongue down Kaethe's throat. I wrung my hands all the way to Legolas' room, dreading telling him what I had seen. His reaction was not the one I expected.

"Get out." Legolas' jaw was clenched and his knuckles white. He was fuming.

"_What_?" I protested, moving out of the way of the door.

"You heard me, Laina."

"Why are you asking me to leave? I'm just telling you what I saw!" This was exasperating.

"I don't understand why you would lie to me like this, Laina, and I don't want an explanation. I just want you to leave." He was talking slowly as if I could not understand Elvish. "Get _out_."

"Leaf, _why _would I lie to you?"

"I _do not _know, but if you do not leave now I will escort you out." Legolas' honey brown eyes darkened dangerously, and as hurt as I was and as much as I wanted him to believe me, I left and slammed the door behind me.

The next few days were spent avoiding Legolas, though I still went to the archery range to practice. I stuck with myself and tried my hardest to ignore Kaethe's watchful eye and her false giggles when Legolas teased her during his breaks from archery. I was shooting better every day, and I know Legolas had noticed – I hoped he would ask his father to put me on the guard, but Orcs had not been sighted for days now and Thranduil was getting less careful with the patrols. I had the feeling Legolas had nearly forgotten that Orcs existed at all; he seemed to spend all of his free time with Kaethe now, which would explain the especially nasty looks Malian tried to hide (but now that I knew, it was so painfully obvious that I thought it was rather like an Orc stabbing you in the back).

When we were done with practice, I saw Malian, Legolas, and Kaethe talking in my peripheral vision. I pretended not to pay too much attention until I saw Malian and Kaethe walk toward the castle together, looking inconspicuous as usual. Legolas was looking after them for a bit before he turned his head to look at me. I immediately dropped my eyes to the bow I had been using, hastily putting it away in its case. I could not see Legolas walk over to me, but my instincts told me he was doing so and I looked up to see him next to me.

"You're doing much better with the bow and arrow," Legolas said formally.

I caught myself rolling my eyes at him, and ignoring his previous statement I asked, "Where are Kaethe and Malian headed?" I tried to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

"Kaethe was feeling tired and Malian offered to escort her to the halls," Legolas answered nonchalantly. I knew better, of course. Kaethe and Malian would go back to Malian's room and—brilliant.

"Well," I started slowly. "Actually, I have a quick question for Malian. Care to come with me to his room?" I was very careful to keep my voice steady, not wanting Legolas to think much of what I had just said.

"Why not?" Legolas replied, offering his arm to me. I guessed he wanted to put the past behind us and forget I had ever said anything about Kaethe and Malian, which was exactly the way Legolas worked. Well, he would remember soon enough.

I linked my arm in Legolas' and we walked toward the halls, saying nothing. The moment between us was a bit stiff but I ignored it for the sake of my mission. Within no time (was I rushing?), we were in front of Malian's door. Legolas reached his hand up to knock but I brought his fist down quickly, putting a finger over my lips to indicate silence. Legolas shot me a quizzical and doubtful glance.

"Laina—"

"Sh," I commanded in a whisper. "I know you don't believe me but I'm going to prove it to you." Legolas' eyes clouded uncomfortably but he did not turn to leave, so I took a deep breath and pushed Malian's door open.

Just as I had suspected. Of course it was nearly heartrending to see the betrayed look on Legolas' face, but he had the right to know. Now he knew. I turned my head immediately from the scene before us: Legolas was not seeing what I had seen before. He was seeing something much more crushing and I could not bear to watch Legolas' heart break. Legolas must have stood there with his eyes narrowed for quite a while until I reached down and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him away. He jerked his hand from me and made a move into the room.

"Kaethe," Legolas breathed, eyeing her nearly naked body on Malian's bed. Kaethe said nothing but lay down on that bed, a rather confused look on her face. Malian had been on top of her when we entered but had immediately jumped off the bed and was standing, his top off, on the opposite side of the room. The expression on his face was difficult to read, and I did not look long enough to try. Legolas swallowed hard before turning his head in disgust.

"Legolas, let's go," I said soothingly, taking his hand again. I was certain he would not allow me to pull him away until he had cut off Malian's head and handed it to Kaethe, but this was unfamiliar territory for the both of us and Legolas accepted my hand and permitted me to pull him gently out of the room. I shut the door slowly behind us.

Legolas and I walked all the way back to his room hand-in-hand, silent. Legolas' stare was blank yet unforgiving. I was unsure of what to say to him when we reached his door; I thought it wildly inappropriate to simply say, 'see you later.' I did not have to make a decision, though, because Legolas pulled me into his room with him as if he had forgotten I was even attached to his hand. I wanted to point this out to him but had not the heart; instead, I allowed him to pull me down onto his bed with him. We both lay there for a while, Legolas staring at the ceiling with the same blank expression and I eyeing Legolas expectantly.

"Leaf?" I whispered after a while. He did not look at me. "I am sorry."

"It is I who should be apologizing, Laina," Legolas replied after a moment, turning his head to gaze into my eyes. "I did not believe my most trusted friend."

"_Malian _is—"

"_Was—_"

"Your most trusted friend. You had every reason to believe his word over mine," I soothed.

"I should not have believed you would lie to me," Legolas said, still looking into my eyes. His stare made me both uncomfortable and relaxed at the same time, which made me even more uncomfortable. I could not stop myself from allowing my eyes to wander; I felt foolish for it and shut my eyes tightly when I realized I was nearly gawking.

"No," I answered after a while. "I would not lie to you."

"I know," Legolas whispered, turning his body to face mine and putting a strong hand on my cheek. For a fleeting moment I thought he was going to kiss me, but to my delight he did not and instead just lay there staring at me (damn those eyes) with his hand gently caressing my cheek. "I loved her," Legolas admitted after a while. I made to say something but he continued. "I do not know why I loved her. I may have loved her because I had to, because Father wanted me to, but I was convinced that I did. You cannot know how hurt I am right now." Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hand now working its way through my hair. I thought of the time I had been most hurt, when I was forced to say goodbye to Legolas and Malian five hundred years ago. My life had been a privileged one, though, because I had met a great person in Imladris. I thought of Aragorn, who had reached Imladris by now; maybe he would be able to send word, with less Orcs around our borders as of late. I sighed and shook my head.

"I have known pain, but none like you must feel now," I confessed sadly. I wanted to put my arms around Legolas and hold him until he felt better; I wanted to take away some of his grief. I would have rather felt the pain myself than watch Legolas feel it, because it was pain he did not deserve.

After a moment of complete heartbreak between the two of us, I felt Legolas' strong hand slide down my side and rest on my waist. I looked up at him quizzically and saw something in his honey browns that I had never seen before. He put his arm around my back and pulled me closer to him, pressing my body against his. I could feel the strength in his arms as I placed my hand on him, allowing it to run down the length of his arm and appreciate every muscle in it. I felt sweet breath on my face and before I could think this through, our lips met. Searing lust swept through my body and I parted his lips with my tongue, letting it slide into his appreciative mouth. He pulled me on top of him; I straddled his waist, letting my long hair hang over his face. He pushed it away, putting both hands behind my head to hold my face closer to his.

I could not breathe; I could not think; all I could do was keep going. I felt a skilled hand undoing the dress I had carelessly placed on my back that morning. I stopped kissing Legolas momentarily to help him untie me, but the moment was long enough. I was breathing hard and looking down at Legolas, searching his eyes. All that reflected in those deep pools of honey was a blank stare. My breath caught in my throat and I got off of him quickly, scrambling to tie my dress.

"Laina," Legolas breathed in a rather pleading way. He sat up and caressed me with his eyes while I stood at his door, breathless and embarrassed. I was unsure of what to do next, so I stood there and allowed Legolas to rise from his bed and come over to me. He stood in front of me, staring at me for a while before putting one finger under my chin and lifting my face so I could look into his eyes. The expression on his face now was infinitely more recognizable; I saw in him the love he felt for me as a best friend rather than a lover. I saw rather than heard an apology, and he put his strong arms around me, burying his face in my hair and kissing my forehead before letting me go. I smiled at him, both of us silently understanding that we would forget what just happened because it was in the head of the moment and it meant nothing to either of us. He smiled back and watched as I opened the door and hurried back to my room.


	13. Confrontation

**I know, I know... it's been ages. But hey, here's an update! Look for another one rather soon. :) This one's kinda short but the next one should be longer.**

**One Year Later – Year 3010**

"That's five for me," I called to Legolas, grinning and wiping my brow.

"Seven," Legolas replied smugly, hurrying over to me. Killing Orcs had become a game for us now, with attacks nearly every day. It was strange and everyone in Mirkwood was well aware that something was happening. Every day the Orcs were moving across our land and without much word from the outside world (save an appearance from Gandalf every now and then), and if that was not out of the ordinary, neither was a Balrog in my flet.

I had been training for a year now and was getting pretty skilled at archery. I was still no good with a sword, but Aragorn had not been around to be upset at the fact. I had not heard from Aragorn since he left, but intuition told me he was alright.

"Legolas," came an authoritative voice from behind us. Legolas and I spun around, arrows knocked in our bows as we aimed at the intruder. The Elf who came into view was a complete idiot to come here in the middle of the wood with only Legolas and I to witness if an arrow 'accidentally' pierced his foot; but then, he had been doing a lot of moronic things as of late. I guessed it was a result of his company of choice.

"_What _are you doing here?" Legolas snarled, still aiming his bow menacingly. I hurriedly dropped my bow and placed a hand on his, forcing it downward safely.

"_Leaf_," I whispered urgently. Legolas was still glaring but agreed to keep his bow at a safe distance. "Malian, what do you want?" I asked tiredly, looking up at him again. Malian's blue eyes clouded over.

"I was sent to retrieve Legolas," Malian answered, eyeing us a bit nervously. Dolt.

"By whom?" Legolas hissed, threatening to raise his bow again.

"Leaf, for Varda's sake," I said, rolling my eyes and elbowing him gently. I thought he was going to cut off my ears.

"King Thranduil," Malian replied. "He says he needs to talk to you about patrols. We need more Elves on the lookout. The number of Orcs crossing through here doubles every day—"

"You think I don't _know _that? Tell him it's out of the question. You're banned from patrol," Legolas said stonily. I rolled my eyes again.

"But Leaf—" I began, but Legolas cut me off with a sharp glance.

"It's _out _of the _question_."

"Fine," Malian replied angrily. "King Thranduil would like to see you," he finished, turning on his heel and stalking off into the woods.

"I hope an Orc sticks an arrow in his arm," Legolas whispered crossly, watching Malian suspiciously until he was no longer in view.

"You know that was a year ago, Legolas, and you still haven't gotten over it," I tried to say soothingly but it came out a bit more impatiently than it should have.

"Gotten _over it_, Laina? I was to _marry _her! Malian was my _best_—"

"You think I don't _realize _that, Leaf? I knew before _you _did and you wouldn't take my word on it! It's time to give it up. Kaethe's heart doesn't belong to you and it never did," I spat. I did not give Legolas time to reply; instead, I followed Malian hurriedly toward the halls, leaving Legolas in a pool of self pity. The time had come for someone to say that to him, and I had to be the only one not too scared of Legolas' wrath to say it.

"I'm back on patrol," I heard Malian's voice say rather nonchalantly from above me. I had been sitting underneath a tree just outside the halls, reading a rather interesting book on the history of archery when he approached. I looked up to see his dark head hovering over me, his blue eyes shining with satisfaction.

"Good for you," I replied. "Now can you get out of my sunlight?" Malian said nothing, but stepped slightly out of my way so as not to cast a shadow on my book. I had expected him to give up and go almost immediately, but after a moment or two of him standing there, looking down on me, I decided to say something else. "Can I help you?"

"I just miss you," Malian admitted, looking rather sincere and pathetic. It was all I could do to keep myself from rolling my eyes at him. I was not generally prone to falling for the apologetic, pitiful Malian.

"Oh hush, you," I insisted, patting the ground next to me. Malian obliged whole-heartedly, sitting down enthusiastically next to me and slinging one strong arm around my shoulder.

"I knew you would understand," he said, smiling down at me.

"Understand?" I echoed quizzically.

"I just mean, I knew you would forgive me eventually."

"Now how in Arda did you know that?" I asked. Malian shot me some sort of knowing glance, the same one I had seen before when he and I had been fighting the first time I caught him and Kaethe together. Again, I could not decipher it and instead decided to demand an explanation. "I really don't know what that look means, Mal," I said.

"Well, if you don't know…" Malian smiled and winked at me before standing and taking his leave. I watched him with one eyebrow raised as he walked cheerily into the woods, bow and arrow in hand.


	14. The Art of Survival

**7 Years Later – Year 3017**

I was running through the forest at full speed, every now and then turning my head to see behind me. I could not risk stopping to hide. I heard arrows zooming past me from all around, taking chunks out of trees that whispered wounded cries. I felt the cut on my left arm dripping blood down to my elbow, leaving a trail of red droplets on ripe, green grass beneath my feet. Trees limbs were scratching at my cheeks as I ran, and I had long since used all my arrows. Now, all I could do was run.

I heard menacing footsteps behind me. I knew the sound well by now—they belonged to the Goblins that were running rampant through Mirkwood. I was not scared anymore. Running was not an act of cowardice; it was the art of survival.

Suddenly, I felt a quick hand grab me by the shoulder and hoist me into a tree. The same hand was clamped over my mouth to stop me from screaming, but I knew that hand so well that I never even tried to scream. I turned my head to see Malian perched on a branch, bow on his back. His long, dark chestnut hair was pulled behind his head save the few strands that had come loose and were clinging to his sweat-drenched face. His eyes were sharp and dangerous, blue as the skies, and they were squinting, cat-like, at the ground below us. He removed his strong hand from my mouth and winked at me with as much ease as he could muster before quickly grabbing his bow and knocking an arrow in it. He aimed at something I did not have the time to see before sending his arrow flying expertly into the creature beneath us, which fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"Nice shot," I whispered quietly, trying hard not to let my rapid breathing cause too much clamor. Malian gave me a cheeky grin before hopping down from the tree and offering his dirt-covered hand to me, helping me down.

"We have to get you back to the halls," Malian said urgently, grabbing my hand and pulling me in the right direction.

"I don't want to go, Mal! I want to fight," I protested, but when Malian was on a mission he never stopped to listen.

"You are out of arrows and they need all the healers they can get," Malian said with finality. I did not bother arguing.

"Have you seen Legolas?" I asked hopefully as we appeared in the clearing in front of the halls. A dozen or so patrols were standing guard, all of whom pointed their weapons at us as we emerged. Malian bowed his head at them, and they did so in return without a word, allowing us into the halls.

"I haven't seen him in days," Malian admitted, only letting go of my hand once we reached the foyer. He placed both of his hands behind my ears and brought my head forward, kissing the mud on my forehead. "And I know you have not either, but you must get some rest and do what work you can here. I'm sure Legolas is fine." I sighed unhappily, knowing Malian was right. He gave me another quick kiss on the forehead before nearly sprinting back outside and away from the halls, into the woods, into the thick of battle.

I turned toward my room, completely forgetting the cut on my arm and the stench of my body. Nothing could console me at that moment, and I crawled into my bed, blood and dirt still caked onto my skin, and fell into a fitful sleep.

---------------  
"Legolas has been reported missing," Féoras said to me authoritatively. Over the past few years, Féoras had grown into a striking young Elf and had begun to get over his nervous social habits. I think he had rather taken a liking to me as of recently (or maybe since the first night we met), but I could not worry about that at the moment. Now was not the time for male-female bonding. Now was the time for war.

"_Missing_?" I nearly screamed at him. Panicked, I felt my heartbeat quicken to an almost uncontrollable pace and I felt the blood drain from my extremities. "Féoras…what do you mean he's _missing_?" The words were meant to be a demand, a determined question, but they escaped my lips as nothing more than a harsh whisper.

"No one has seen him for four days," Féoras replied what he thought was gently, but nothing about what he was saying was gentle. A cold shiver ran down my back and to my feet, leaving bumps all over my body. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out, and my eyes brimmed with tears threatening to cascade down the waterfalls that were my cheeks. Managing to swallow hard enough to clear my throat, I found words to express what I was feeling. They may not have been the most coherent, well-planned words, but at least I said something.

"No…" I said slowly, beginning to breathe quickly. "Féoras, we have to find him."

"Laina," Féoras interjected, once again trying his best to sound comforting. What I expected was for him to tell me that it would be impossible to find him, that he was gone, or that people were already looking and we would be of no help, or that we needed to stay behind and do what we could at the halls, but instead Féoras asked, "Where do you want to look?" I raised an eyebrow at him, asking if he was sincere. All he did was stare back at me, the same worried yet determined expression in his grey eyes.

"We have to search every inch of this forest, Féoras. I have to find him."

"Then let us find him," Féoras answered, turning on his heel toward the weapon room. I followed after him like a sick puppy, wondering why he was being so accommodating and, for a split second, whether we should actually go out and look for him.

Suddenly, something struck me—not literally, though from the searing pain I could have sworn an arrow was sticking out of my right side. I stood still, watching a blurred Féoras stalk off resolutely. I wanted to call for his help but I had no air left in my lungs. I reached my hand in front of me, barely able to move my fingers, silently willing Féoras to turn around. A slight gasped escaped my lips before my head sagged and I fell to the ground.

"Laina!" Féoras yelled, turning and sprinting back to me. He picked my head gently off the floor and searched my eyes with his. "Laina, are you alright?" Incredulity was dripping from his voice. I took a deep breath, finally able to move my own body enough to grab my side in pain.

"My side," I managed, clutching it as it throbbed.

"What happened?" Féoras asked. And as fast as the pain had come, it dulled and I sat up without Féoras' help.

"I…my side…I don't know," I answered after a moment, furrowing my brow. "Help me up, Féoras…this changes nothing…" My breathing was still rapid enough to affect my speech, but I would not let anything get in my way now. "We have to find Legolas." Féoras nodded, eyeing me carefully before standing up and helping me to my feet. He placed one hand behind my head and brought it forward, kissing my hair delicately before grabbing my hand again and pulling me in the direction of the weapon room.


	15. Finding Legolas

Féoras and I had searched the wood all afternoon and late into the night, stopping every now and then to kill off a few more Orcs and sleeping only momentarily. My slumber was fitful and rife with nightmares of Orcs burning our lands and other evils I could not bear to remember. When I awoke, I found myself lying next to Féoras, who was sleeping gently with his sawdust-colored head resting on his arm. I tried to shake the visions from my head, ignoring the sudden fear that Legolas would have some sort of dangerous journey ahead of him. I tried my best to forget the image of Legolas fighting a real war against an immense army of Orcs and other creatures, bigger and more skilled than imaginable; I shook Féoras awake, and he blinked his pale eyes in wonder of the light. We stood up together, silently resuming our search, but Legolas could not be found.

By the late afternoon, my long hair was pulled behind my head in a bun and my hands were nearly brown from all the dirt and Orc blood, but Féoras and I kept looking. Again night crept over the trees, threatening to end our search when suddenly, I stumbled over something almost invisible, covered in dirt. I fell roughly to the ground with an "oomph!", catching myself with my hands just in time to save my head from a stone beneath me.

"Uhn…" came a moaning from the ground. I sat up immediately, ears perked, eyes wide. Féoras ran over to me, seeing the lump I had tripped over.

"Leaf?" I whispered frantically, crawling on my knees to wear the body lay. No answer came. I recognized the cloak almost immediately; he was face down against the earth, his hair no longer a shiny blonde but rather a dull brown, mixed with grime and, to my horror, dried blood.

"Legolas!" Féoras exclaimed, bending down to turn him over carefully. My breath caught in my throat when I saw an arrow protruding from his right side. My hand instinctively flew to my side as well, remembering the sharp pain I had felt in exactly the same spot just a day earlier. Blood had crusted around the wound.

"Leaf!" I said again more urgently, begging him to open his eyes. As if on command, Legolas' honey browns fluttered open; they were filled to the brim with pain that threatened to overflow down his gritty face and onto the earth beneath us. I tried hard not to notice the fear that coupled the pain, but the sorrow of the moment forced a tear from my eyes that landed on Legolas' dried, pale lips.

"L…L…ain…a," Legolas whispered in a husky voice. It was the last thing he said before the light exited his eyes and his eyelids fell.

"_No_!" I exclaimed, looking up in dread at Féoras. He had been hovering over us and I could see him working something out in his mind before he took action. He nodded and pushed me out of the way a little, gently taking Legolas into his arms like he was cradling an infant. I swallowed hard, standing despite the weakness in my knees and the blur of my vision, and followed Féoras into the night.

---------------

Luckily, Féoras and I had started our search further from the halls and, when we found Legolas, we were not far from them. We hurried in the right direction, and I cannot say I remember much about the walk back. Everything had been a haze of emotion since I had seen Legolas on the verge of death. There were so many things I needed to tell him, and so many more moments we needed to share together; I had always thought we would have forever, until recently—Varda damn those Orcs for ruining so many things. For the past week we should have been gallivanting around, hiding from the tittering fools at the halls and meticulously finding a new Elven maiden for Legolas (and, it would not have hurt to look for myself!). We should have been reading tasteless poetry in a peaceful wood, not hunting Orcs, defending our halls, and fearing for our lives. What was Arda coming to? Why were there so many Orcs about, and what was happening with the Ring of Power? Had Sauron found what he was looking for? Would Middle-earth fall to his reign? Too many unanswered questions were lingering on my mind as we passed through the trees on the way back to the halls. The two people I needed most to talk to were unable to talk—Aragorn, whom I had not heard from in years (though something told me he was alright and thinking about me every now and then), and Legolas. Mostly, I yearned for Aragorn to return on some mission to Mirkwood, just to assure me that he was still the same Aragorn I had always known—but he never came, and I was left to wonder whether or not I would ever see him again. More tears fell down my cheeks until I began sobbing uncontrollably, not willing to take anyone's help to clean myself up.

When I finally roused myself from my thoughts, I found Féoras and me sitting side-by-side in chairs in the hospital wing. A brown-haired healer was assuring Féoras that everything would be alright.

"What?" I asked finally, my voice groggy and unpleasant.

"The Prince will live, of course," the healer repeated, smiling congenially. I raised one eyebrow at him as if to be certain. "I promise," he said, nodding. "The arrow wound is minor, Prince Legolas had simply lost too much blood and too much sleep, but he is resting now. You will be able to visit him tomorrow; he should be awake by then." With that, the healer turned to leave and I sat, dizzy, next to Féoras, who had taken my hand and was stroking the back of it gently with his thumb.


	16. A Bloody Nose

"Laina," Legolas managed to croak, his eyes wide open but his pale, cracked lips refusing to part more than necessary to say my name. He tried to smile.

"Shh," I replied, placing one rather shaky hand on his forehead and letting it slide through his golden hair, which had been washed since he had reached the hospital wing. Legolas was looking up at me with something in his brown eyes that I had never seen before, and I tried hard to understand it but nothing came to me. I merely stood beside his bed, stroking his hair and watching him stare at me with that look in his eye. It had been a very pleasant moment until _someone _interrupted.

"Legolas!" a breathy voice from behind me said. From the moment that disgustingly sweet voice reached my ear I went rigid from the ear down. I did not turn. I did not need to. "I came as soon as I heard," the voice said, and I felt someone glide into standing position beside me. Legolas' eyes hardened as he looked at her. I had forgiven Malian, but I would never forgive her.

"What are you doing here?" I asked through gritted teeth, still refusing to look at Kaethe. I heard her breath catch in her throat as she examined Legolas. She had ignored my question.

"Oh Legolas, are you alright? I was so worried!" Kaethe exclaimed. The only thing stopping me from turning and punching her in the face was the look Legolas was giving her now. Was I out of my mind or was color slowly returning to his lips? I saw a glimmer in his eyes and they were—they were rather soft, scanning Kaethe in a way inappropriate for someone who had been betrayed by her.

"I'll ask you this _one _more time," I managed without raising my voice. "_What_…are you doing here?" With resolute self-control, I turned my head to look at her. To my surprise, her appearance made her seem rather disheveled, but I refused to believe she was in the least bit worried about Legolas at all. Kaethe's eyes widened in fear as I stared at her, revolted. "Kaethe, what in Varda's name are you doing here?" I demanded, losing control of my voice, which had become shaky and high-pitched as I asked the question again.

"I…I told you…I was worried about him," Kaethe stuttered, turning her hesitant gaze from me back to Legolas. Her eyes relaxed as she looked at him and smiled slightly. "I do care about him, you know," she said under her breath. Now I was sure I was going to hit her.

"You _care _about him? Oh, no, anyone would be able to tell how much you _care _about him, about his _feelings_, about…about…you don't care or you wouldn't have done that to him!" I had definitely lost control of my temper. "You may as well have stuck an arrow in the middle of his _chest_, you loathsome, deceiving, evil little wench!" I was screaming. "You may as well have _killed _him—" I stopped my tirade and fully intended on breaking her nose when a weak hand caught my wrist, and I stopped to look down at it skeptically. It was Legolas. He was staring up at me with a rather pleading expression in his eyes.

"Laina, don't," he nearly begged, glancing at Kaethe, who was cowering closer to his bed.

"Get away from him," I growled. She seemed to try to obey, but Legolas interrupted her movement.

"No!" he insisted, giving Kaethe a rather panicked look. My mouth dropped incredulously at Legolas. "Please stay," he whispered to Kaethe, who nodded and placed one hand on his pale cheek. I could have killed both of them. I jerked my wrist out of Legolas' grasp, which proved to be much easier than I had expected. I looked from Kaethe to Legolas and back, stunned. They were not looking at me. I swallowed hard before turning and stalking out of the hospital wing, determined to find Malian.

-------

"No offense, Mal, but what in Arda told her it would be a good idea to go see Legolas? Has she completely lost her mind?" I had just stormed into Malian's room, and he was looking up at me from the bowl beneath him. From the looks of it, he had been washing the dirt off his face before I barged in.

"Who? What?" Malian asked, putting down the towel in his hand. Did I really have to spoon-feed him information?

"Your _wife _is currently at Legolas' bedside, fawning over him in all her idiocy," I retorted. Malian raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Yes, that's exactly what I thought," I added, crossing my arms in a huff.

"I highly doubt she's _fawning_," Malian replied after a moment, coming over to me and slinging one arm around my shoulders.

"Oh, and has she proven trustworthy over the years?" I asked. "I seem to recall her being rather vicious with another's heart a few years ago, don't you?"

"Yes," Malian answered to quickly. "But she married _me_, and I do trust her. But, let's go see, shall we?" he asked, escorting me to the hospital wing.

Legolas and Kaethe were as I left them, except now Kaethe had brought up a chair and was holding one of Legolas' hands. I looked at Malian as if to say, "See?" but he did not respond. He merely walked up to Kaethe and put one hand on her shoulder, startling her and Legolas into breaking their gaze. She removed her hand rapidly.

"I see you've regained consciousness," Malian said to Legolas nonchalantly, as if his wife had not just been staring fixedly into her ex-fiancé's eyes. I watched Legolas nod angrily. He had not yet forgiven Malian, and I had the feeling he never would. Despite Malian's role in the patrol over the past few years, Legolas and Malian still shared a rather jaw-clenched relationship, and I did not blame Legolas for wishing missing limbs upon Malian every time his back was turned. I could only imagine how Legolas felt, watching Malian's control over Kaethe and her willing suspension of emotion toward Legolas. "Well, Prince Legolas, I do hope my wife has given you her _fondest_ sentiments," Malian's voice was drawling, and his emphasis on the word 'fondest' was the most unpleasant pleasantry of all.

"Darling, I was just—" Kaethe began, but Malian cut her off with a rather threatening gleam in his darkening blues.

"We'll talk about it later, sweetheart," Malian agreed pleasantly, betraying the anger in his eyes. "Right now I need a word with the Prince. I'll meet you in our room," Malian insisted. Kaethe bowed her head.

"Yes, m'lord," she answered obediently before turning and walking in my direction. I was standing near the door, my arms still crossed. I narrowed my eyes at her as she attempted to walk past. Well, the moment was right.

"Laina!" Malian yelled at me, turning as Kaethe sank to the floor with a scream, holding her bloody nose in her hands. "Damn it, Laina," Malian said, shaking his head. I could not see Legolas' expression from where I stood, wringing my hand with pleasure. As I walked toward Legolas' bed, I heard Malian whisper something ominously.

"Stay _away _from my wife, Leaf," Malian threatened. "She was never yours." With that, Malian turned his head sharply, letting his long, dark hair flow behind him as he walked past me without looking at me, picked Kaethe off the ground roughly, and led her to their room. I smiled after them.

"I'm going to kill him," Legolas managed, his voice cracked.

"And I'm going to kill her, so they can be dead together, and then we're just giving them what they want, aren't we?" I asked sarcastically.

"Why did you bring him here?" Legolas whispered angrily.

"To bring you back to your senses, Leaf. She does not love you," I began, and Legolas held up his hand weakly to silence me, but I would not be silenced. "No!" I nearly screamed at him. "She does _not _love you, Leaf! She may care whether you live or die, but that does not mean she loves you! I care whether Féoras lives or dies, but I am not in love with him! She has _never _loved you, hasn't she made that clear?" I was not sparing Legolas' feelings anymore. "I thought you had gotten that through your thick skull, Greenleaf, but you watch her when she walks by. You yearn for her but she does not notice you, not until you're upon what could have been your deathbed does she even acknowledge your continuing existence. She may care, but she does not love, she never has, and she never, ever will. She loves Malian. I can see it in her eyes when they talk. I can see it in her body language when they kiss. Yes, when they're being disgusting and canoodling around the halls, in front of people, yes, I see it, and I know you do too. Do not deny her love, Leaf. Not the love she wants. Deny her your love, because she does not want it and she does not deserve it," I finished, turning on my heel and stalking out of the hospital wing for the second time that day.

"Where are you going?" Legolas' cracked voice called after me, physical and emotional pain in his voice. He clearly did not want to be left alone with his thoughts, but he had to be. He had to understand.

"I'm on patrol," I yelled back shortly, not turning to look as Legolas called my name after me.


	17. She Elves

"Come in," I responded aloofly to the knock on my door. I was busy flipping through pages of the latest book I had picked up and was completely disinterested with whoever might have been knocking. I waited for a moment after I heard the door open to look up. Guess who it was.

"Legolas," I said shortly before looking back to my book. I could tell he was waiting on me to say something more, being as I had not talked to him nor seen him since a fortnight ago, when he was still in his hospital bed. I noticed from my quick glance that he looked much better—the scratches on his face had healed and he was no longer limping—a disability I heard of from random Elves around the halls. I had been avoiding him. An awkward silence ensued, but I had gotten tired of it enough to stop being stubborn. "I see you're out of the healers' care," I added nonchalantly.

"Yes," Legolas replied a bit too quickly. I looked up at him again, arching my eyebrow and clearly asking why in Varda's name he was in my room. He cleared his throat, evading eye contact and looking about nervously. Ridiculous. As if I had not known the Elf for five hundred years plus. "I uh, I just wanted to say…" His voice trailed off as he stared at his feet.

"Leaf, you needn't be jumpy around me, of all Elves," I encouraged, patting the bed beside me. It had been much too long since our fight for me not to have gotten over it. "What is it that you wanted to say?"

Legolas calmed a bit, deciding after a hesitant moment to accept my invitation and sit down beside me on the bed. "I just wanted to say…" he began again, taking a deep breath. This must have been one hard thing to say. "I just wanted to say…you were right." He stopped there, not bothering to explain.

"About…what, may I ask?"

"About…about Kaethe," he admitted, hanging his head a bit. In that moment I had a very strange urge to hug him, but I resisted and let him continue. "She never did love me and I was just too blinded by my infatuation to see it. I want to get over her," he said rather resolutely. I nodded a bit incredulously.

"Well, that's a good start," I replied, grinning slightly. "So, why tell me this?"

"I need your help," Legolas said under his breath. It took all the strength I could muster not to laugh in his face; I knew he was serious.

"You want _me _to help you find someone?" I asked a bit sheepishly. Legolas looked at me, his honey browns pathetic and lonely. I shook my head in disbelief. "Alright," I agreed. A smile played on his thin lips.

"Thank you, Laina. I knew you would understand," he said, grinning like an Elfling who was just told a tale by the fire. I shook my head again.

"I'll keep an eye out then," I said, and Legolas nearly skipped out of my room, only turning to wink playfully at me. It was good to have my Leaf back.

Well, I had kept my eye out, and after Selnín, Yadeth, Sumihel, and Fílys, Legolas had begun to give up on ever finding a she-Elf he could bear to be around. With time, the search for a female Elf for Prince Legolas had circulated, and everyone around the wood was dressed in their very best and introducing themselves everywhere I went—apparently it had also gotten out that I was his "chief advisor" of some sort. I had she-Elves nearly falling on their knees in front of me, begging me to introduce them to the Prince. Most of them were tittering fools, and all of them were in it for the fame around the wood and the lavish gifts Legolas would be able to secure them; I had to also admit that he was not hard on the eyes, and despite his title and his wealth, I supposed females would have been fawning over him nonetheless. So far, none of them had been good enough. The ones I had even agreed to introduce turned out to be morons in disguise. I was getting sick of the quest and began toting around my quiver full of arrows on my back and my bow in my hand just so I could excuse myself because I heard something "rustling in the trees." Of course, every now and then that would be true and the she-Elf who had just methodically placed herself within my line of vision would squeal and run away. They were not supposed to be too far from the halls anyway, but the braver ones would approach me in the middle of the wood just to get a good word in with the Prince.

Legolas and I had taken to patrolling together, and at the end of our shift we were walking back, talking about the most recent "ladies."

"Daëruil was an absolute horror," Legolas said, shaking his head in disgust.

"Well, you have to admit her eyes were very intriguing, and she seemed to have some brains between those pointed ears," I suggested, wiping my forehead with my sleeve.

"That's just it," Legolas said, stopping suddenly as if he had had an epiphany. "I…I guess I'm not attracted to very…effeminate girls," he admitted, looking straight ahead into the darkness, keeping his eyes moving in case an Orc decided to sneak up on us.

"What about Kae—" I began, but Legolas cut me off with a raised hand. I immediately wondered why Kaethe was a sore subject yet again, but I realized soon that Legolas was silencing me for another reason. Faster than I could see, I heard an arrow zooming from beside me and hitting its target; the target fell with a small _thump _to the ground. Legolas smiled. "Anyway," I continued, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened—and nothing had, actually. Orcs were anything but scarce at that point, and Legolas never missed. "What about Kaethe? She was extremely effeminate," I pointed out.

"And we see how well that worked out," Legolas mumbled as we entered the clearing where the halls were located. We walked up the few stone steps that led into the castle.

"I suppose you're right," I consented. "Well, I don't know any particular non-effeminate women who are trying to win a place in Princey-boy's heart," I teased. Legolas rolled his eyes at me before taking my hand and pulling me in the direction of his room. "And where are you taking me?"

"I just want some company," Legolas said with a cheeky grin on his face.

"You pervert," I admonished, hitting him playfully in the arm.

We reached his room and as Legolas cleaned himself up, I threw myself onto his bed, dirt and all.

"Know any non-effeminate she-Elves in Mirkwood?" I asked loudly enough for Legolas to hear over the water he was splashing on his face from a basin in his washing room that connected to his bedroom.

"Only you, as far as I'm aware," Legolas called back. If Legolas were a target, he would have been full of arrows from the look I was shooting him.

"I don't count," I mentioned, taking my eyes off him and staring at the ceiling.

"Why not?" Legolas wondered, stepping back into his bedroom while drying his face with a cloth.

"_Honestly_," I replied, throwing him a skeptical glance. Legolas finished drying his face and pulling his hair back into a more acceptable pleat behind his head before jumping onto his bed beside me and lying down, body facing me with his head propped up on his hand.

"Maybe I should stop looking and she'll just come to me," Legolas sighed, eyeing me. I reached out and pinched his cheek, smiling.

"That's probably best…quit looking at me like that," I asserted.

"Like what?" Feigned-innocent eyes. What kind of a dolt did he take me for?  
"Did you leave your courtesy in the basin in your washroom?" I asked, grinning slightly. I saw the smile playing on his lips and in his eyes.

"What courtesy?" Legolas asked before squeezing my side mischievously. I slapped the offending hand weakly.

"You idiot of a Prince," I said, shaking my head before closing my eyes out of exhaustion from our patrol. The last thing I remember was feeling Legolas put his head down on the same pillow mine was resting on, and I felt his steady breath on my face before sleep took me.


	18. Good Morning

The following morning I awoke to a tingling sensation in my right foot. I tried to shake it awake, but something was piled on top of my calf. My foot nudged me impatiently with its incessant prickling, but I was unable to set free the blood that would rush into the places inside me that needed it most. I felt something against my leg that I had not felt in a long time: another leg, entwined in mine. I noticed suddenly the heap of breathing blankets behind me and the long, muscular arm that was slinked around my waist, the hand draped onto the bed in front of my stomach, strumming my heartstrings. I studied the offending hand for a moment, watching the way the arteries covering the knuckles pulsed in a silent rhythm, begging me to notice. I felt warm, tickling breath on the back of my neck coming at a slow pace; the steadiness of it caught me off guard. It was not rehearsed again and again like a scene from a play, but rather upbeat and improvised, fixed and unnerving.

Slowly, I felt the prickling sensation move from my right foot to my other foot, climbing up my legs and through my chest, scaling my body like a mountain, hanging on for life and the gratification of reaching a summit. The sensation finally peaked at the tip of my head and descended again like a waterfall, drenching my entire body with sweat. I forced saliva down my aching throat.

What made me uncomfortable was the sheer comfort that I felt, however paradoxical that may seem. Nothing about my predicament was awkward; underneath the arm that draped a curtain around our world, I was safe. Every Orc in Mordor could have waltzed into the room at that moment and all I would have been able to do is breathe.

I stayed in one position for longer than I had imagined an eternity. The universe simply shrunk to accommodate the time, and space had no property. In those few lifetimes I lay in that bed with that arm draped over me, hiding me from the world, space bended to fit and we were only one, that arm and me. I had become a part of the same beating that coursed through that cobweb of arteries spread over that hand, and no one could have convinced me otherwise. Sauron himself could have turned Arda upside-down and I would not have noticed. I was simply being.

After a moment longer than a lifetime of the gods, I managed to force every cell within me to move. It took another era for me to finally turn my body so I could look into the face of the person whose arm had become a part of my very soul. His long, golden tresses were cascading behind him on our pillow. The steady beat of his breathing had not been interrupted, and his arm was still draped over me. I saw the soft spots inside him, the dark holes that had been hollowed out by life, existing somewhere between his collarbone and his ribcage. I noticed the tender spots on his eyelids and the way they quivered slightly every time I took a breath. I noticed the deep brown of his eyelashes and the way they curled, saving his honey brown eyes from a storm.

I could do nothing but lie there and stare. I think I must have been there until Arda collapsed beneath us with age when I finally felt his breathing become a little erratic and watched as his eyelids flickered open, drinking in the sunlight in the room like someone dehydrated. Before I saw it, I felt an invisible string pull one end of his lips into a smile. I could have stayed there forever, staring at his half-smile, but I knew that would be unreasonable. There were far more important things than drawing the curtain on our world.

"Good morning," dripped Legolas' groggy voice, like honey into my ears. I wanted not to respond, to just ignore that he was awake and would soon move his arm from around me when he realized where it was. All I wanted to do was ignore the morning, pull the covers over our heads and disappear. I did not want to have to get up and worry about whether or not I would make it through another day, or what in Arda was keeping the world from simply caving in for so long. Had Sauron found his Ring? Should we leave Middle-earth now? I did not want to think about never returning to the calm beauty of Mirkwood or the shining elegance of Imladris. I wanted to stay under those warm sheets and under his strong arm. The emotions were so overwhelming that I felt a warm tear drip down my nose and threaten to trickle onto what was left of my universe.

Legolas' eyebrows knitted in concern, and without saying a word he moved his arm to wipe the tear from the tip of my nose. As he did so, I could not help smiling, and his thin lips parted in return.

"Good morning," I finally replied, realizing it would not actually be a good morning when we left that bed. Up until now it had been a good morning. To my relief, Legolas moved his leg from on top of mine and rolled onto his back, stretching and sighing while watching the ceiling. I could not read the expression that clouded his face.

"Guess we better get up," Legolas said, turning his head toward me, expression still undecipherable.

"Yes," I agreed reluctantly, making to sit up but Legolas pulled me down in one swift movement. He wrapped both of his arms around me and rested me so close to his body that my breathing and his were synchronized. I was unsure of how to feel as my heart beat against his and my arms tangled around his neck, my face buried in his chest. He smelled of warm bread out of the oven mixed with a rather wood-like scent that spiraled up my nostrils into my head, drowning my thoughts like slow currents. I had never felt so close to anyone in my life, not even Aragorn. I was lost in that moment.

Finally, Legolas pulled away and stared straight into my eyes. I thought for a fleeting instant that he was going to kiss me, but thankfully, he refrained whatever he was about to do or say and instead let me go, crawling out of his bed and leaving me behind in the warmth that was us.


	19. A Very Old Friend

A pair of hands slinked in front of my eyes during target practice. I had not spoken to Legolas since that morning, and was surprised he was being as cheeky as this after a very quiet dawn.

"Move your hands before I dig this arrow into your eye," I suggested playfully. After all, if Legolas wanted to play, I was not one to break the mood. Anything to ease the discomforting situation we had placed ourselves in that morning; do not get me wrong, the situation would be smoothed over of course…and why would I not want it to be? We would go on as usual. Why was _I _having such awkward thoughts about that morning? We were both tired and we happened to snuggle in our sleep. What was the problem? "Leaf, if you'd kindly remove your hands from my face I might spare you the rather informal meeting of my knee with your groin—"

"Is that how you would greet me?" That had not been Legolas' voice. It was deeper, huskier and more worn than that of Legolas. A familiar chill ran down my spine like someone cracking an egg on my head and letting the white run down my body, and the smell of him rather resembled that of an egg as well. I reached up to forcefully remove the hands from my eyes, spinning around to identify my assailant.

My breath caught in my throat. This was not who I remembered. Granted, he had the same dark, unkempt hair and the same stubble across his chin. He had the same dirt caked on his face and in his nails, and at his side was the same sword he had never traveled without; but something had changed. In his silver eyes lay more burden than he had left with, and more heavy knowledge than I could consider. I was awe-struck at the wisdom that now lay somewhere in the depths of his head.

"Aragorn," I breathed, almost reluctant to say his name for fear that I was dreaming. I saw his grim demeanor turn softer, lighter, and a smile spread over his face faster than fire through a wood. His aura was nearly unrecognizable, but his face and his eyes—they belonged to the Man I adored most in all of Arda.

I dropped my bow and arrow and literally fell into his arms, pressing my face so far into his neck that I nearly knocked his breath out of him. He groaned in false dismay but wrapped his strong, Ranger arms around me and held me for a thousand years. I could have sworn I saw the leaves change color and fall off the trees only to grow back a brilliant green at least twelve times before I finally unraveled my arms from his neck to take a step back and look at him again.

"Oh, Aragorn," I repeated, cracking a grin so wide it threatened to overthrow the gods themselves.

"Did you miss me?"

"You lout!" I responded, hitting him in the chest with my fist as he continued to hold me close and laugh. "I have not seen you in eight years! Not a word from you in eight years, Aragorn, and now you show up and just expect me to fall into your arms?" I was nearly screaming, but the look on my face must have countered everything I was saying because I could still feel the maniacally wide grin splitting my face in two.

"Why, yes, that's exactly what I thought, and I was right, wasn't I?" Aragorn laughed, pulling me closer. I clouted him near the ear. "Ow!" he argued, rubbing his ear tenderly with one arm while the other remained wrapped around me. "Laina, I apologize—I do, sincerely. Will you be able to find it within yourself to forgive me?" he asked, a cheeky sparkle in his silver eyes. I shook my head.

"As if I could ever stay mad at you," I replied, "Now let me go." He obliged, but not before placing a soft, dirty kiss on my forehead. I eyed him again, hoping he had only returned to Mirkwood to pay me a visit, but knowing better. I grabbed him by the hand and we began the walk to the halls.

"I know what you're wondering, Laina," he started, "but I can't talk about it right now, not with you." He sighed, and I wanted to push my luck but decided against it. Aragorn seemed weathered like I had never seen him, and despite the twinge in his voice that showed he wanted to confide in me, I also knew that if he could have, he would.

"I understand," I answered, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He smiled at me again, one of those irresistible Aragorn smiles. "Ranger," I spat under my breath.

"Tease," he retorted. I shook my head again, smiling all the while as we walked side-by-side toward the halls, as if we had never left each other's sides.

---------------

"You're back," Malian said in a rather strangled voice as we approached the entrance, just as we had all those years ago when I had first returned to Mirkwood. Malian was carefully observing Aragorn as if at any moment he would move his foot and just step on Aragorn, like squishing a bug.

"You're still here," Aragorn replied, matching the monotone of Malian's voice.

"And married," I added to ease the tension. Malian turned his gaze toward me, smiling slightly.

"Congratulations," Aragorn said curtly.

"Right," Malian agreed, standing aside to allow us to enter. I rolled my eyes.

"You two really need to end whatever inhibitions you have about one another. You're both very lovely people, despite the mistakes you _both _have made," I said, staring down Malian and Aragorn in turn, "and you should really stop being immature, because I'm growing a bit weary of it," I finished frankly. Malian just smiled at me, and Aragorn even chuckled a bit. The two then looked at each other and bowed their heads without saying a word, and Aragorn and I entered the halls.

"I must talk to Thranduil at once," Aragorn insisted. I rolled my eyes again, certain they would soon be stuck in a permanent roll if I had to deal with Aragorn, Malian, and Legolas in one small space for any amount of time.

"Aragorn!" I heard Legolas' voice say. I looked up to see him hurrying down the stairs to greet us. "You're back," he said, ignoring my presence completely. I wanted to poke him in the eye, but thought better of it. Legolas and Aragorn clasped a hand on each other's shoulders. I raised one eyebrow at them questioningly, but dared not interrupt. After another moment between them, Legolas broke the silence. "This means things have been set into motion," he said, furrowing his brow.

"Things had been set into motion much sooner, but I am afraid the threat is now too great to be ignored. The Nazgûl have left Mordor, Legolas. They are searching for it," Aragorn was saying.

"Then it will not be long before they find it," Legolas replied, a dark cloud descending on his face.

"It may be a while yet," Aragorn muttered. "It is safe for now, but we must be ready. I will have a talk with your father," he said, finally glancing at me. "You were not meant to hear this, Laina, and I cannot explain any further—to either of you. I must talk with Thranduil and then we will wait it out."

"Wait what out?" I asked. I must have sounded like a naïve child, because that was the way in which both Legolas and Aragorn were eyeing me.

Legolas looked away after a moment, taking a deep breath, his hand still on Aragorn's shoulder. "Come with me," he said, and they both hurried up the stairs to find Thranduil, leaving me alone and completely lost, the word _Nazgûl _reverberating in my head.


	20. Two Words

**A/N: **Though no one has mentioned this, I felt the need to explain Gollum's appearance earlier in the story. Of course, according to Tolkien's timeline, Gollum is not brought to Mirkwood until the beginning of year 3017, or around that time. I did want to mention that as a part of my story I have tweaked this a bit; I felt the need to mention this because so far I have tried my best to keep with the real timeline of The Lord of the Rings, and since this bit is not quite canon, I thought I'd address it before anyone notices and asks about it. Carry on.

----------------------

For hours I was stuck pacing the foyer, awaiting Legolas and Aragorn. The sun had faded in the West and only the light from lanterns allowed me to see my own shuffling feet. Finally, I had grown so weary of pacing and worrying that I sat down very unlady-like on the carpet, crossing my legs and scowling. Why was this impromptu meeting taking so long?

"This way," a familiar voice whispered from somewhere behind a veil. I opened my eyes slowly, realizing my cheek was pressed firmly against the carpet and my back was disagreeing with me. I stretched and yawned, pushing myself up forcefully and following the voice and the quiet footsteps out of the doors and into the night air.

"Planning on giving me the slip?" I asked rather loudly. The two silhouettes in front of me stopped in their tracks and turned, one of them giving me a rather haunted smile and the other a rather tentative one.

"Of course not," Aragorn answered, clearing his throat. "You just looked so peaceful asleep on the ground." I rolled my eyes and walked up beside them.

"So where are we going?" Legolas glanced at Aragorn uncertainly, and Aragorn shrugged. I raised a skilled eyebrow. "The only thing this way is the dungeons," I said matter-of-factly, pointing out the stone staircase slightly to our left, leading down. "And the only thing in the dungeons is Gollum."

"Right," Aragorn answered almost smugly. "We need to find out now exactly how much Gollum told Sauron."

"Now?" I wondered aloud. "At this time of night?"

"Better he scream when no one can hear him," Legolas remarked. I had to give him that, though I was positive that Gollum's screams could awake some sleeping Elves that would not mind exacting revenge on him, no matter how much we needed him.

"Anything you hear you must keep to yourself," Aragorn added as we hurried down the stairs. "This is a very serious matter, Laina, and we do not want to worry anyone."

"_Worry _anyone?" I asked incredulously. "Orcs tear through our wood every day and you expect no one to be worried? Everyone has their suspicions, and most of them include the Dark Lord. Elves of Mirkwood are not dimwitted, Aragorn," I scolded.

"Of course not," Aragorn agreed. "But still, it is best if you kept this secret. What they don't know can't hurt them."

"Except in this case, that doesn't really make sense, does it?" I asked as we hit the bottom of the stairs and reached the iron gate on the side of the castle. Aragorn shrugged again, obviously aware that they could certainly still be hurt by what they knew nothing of.

Legolas opened his hand, revealing a brass key. He stuck it into the keyhole, turning it expectantly until a _clink _told us the gate had been unlocked. Legolas pushed it open carefully, but the gate did not bend to our wills and instead of opening silently, it screeched.

A wailing noise began from inside the dungeons, a high-pitched scream that could have been heard in Mordor and beyond. I grimaced, hurriedly placing both hands over my sensitive ears. The screaming continued for some time, until finally it slowly died down and Aragorn, Legolas, and I were able to move again, like we had just regained conscious thoughts.

"Well at least we know he hasn't escaped," I joked. Legolas and Aragorn both gave me sharp glares before turning their heads back in the direction of Gollum's cell. Aragorn picked a lantern off the wall, holding it out in front of him. We reached the end of a long hallway, and Aragorn thrust the lantern to the left, casting searing light over the last dungeon. Another groaning wail soared through the air.

"Gollum!" Aragorn insisted, slightly threatening. Gollum did not stop wailing. We stood there, listening to him wail for quite some time before Legolas grabbed the bars that kept Gollum in his dungeon and shook them out of frustration. The wailing stopped. "Gollum?" Aragorn asked tentatively. A hiss greeted our ears.

"What'sss it want, precious? _What'sss _it want?"

"Come into the light," Aragorn suggested soothingly. I noticed a shadow pressed against the stone wall at the back of the cell, lamplike eyes glowing in the dark. A shuffled footstep and Gollum appeared under the light. He was as I remembered him, bones with discolored skin stretched over them, a tuft of black hair growing from his large head, his teeth rotten and missing. My breath caught in my throat.

"They must tell us what they wants, precious, yes," Gollum replied more to himself than us.

"When Sauron captured you, what did you tell him of the Ring?" Aragorn demanded. Gollum's eyes shifted from Aragorn to me to Legolas uncertainly. He breathed so hard I could have heard him from across Arda. For a moment he looked as if he would start screaming again, but he must have thought better of it and he slumped over, scratching his head.

"Must not ask us questions, precious, must not…_gollum_, _gollum_." I thought he might cough up a hairball, but he merely scratched away at his head before placing both hands on the floor and muttering to himself.

"We need to know what you told him," Aragorn repeated, "if you tell us, we may set you free." I raised one quizzical eyebrow at Aragorn before turning back to Gollum. I did not prefer lying to this creature who had obviously had a rough time over the last few hundred years, but I guessed the fate of Middle-earth might rely on Gollum's answer, so I said nothing.

"We did not tell him anything, did we, precious?" Gollum answered, scuttling around a bit.

"We _need _to know, Gollum," Legolas piped up. Gollum jerked his eyes from the floor to Legolas, mumbling something about being hurt. "We know they hurt you, Gollum, but we don't intend to do so. It would be best, though, for you, if you told us exactly what you told the Dark Lord." Legolas' voice was soothing despite the deep anger that resided behind his eyes. I could even see it in the dark.

"We said only two wordsss, yes, two _wordsss_…"

"What were they?" Aragorn asked quickly.

"What were the two words, precious? They wants to know what words we said, yes, they wants to know…but why do they wants to know, precious?" Gollum continued, as always talking to himself rather than anyone present. Legolas and Aragorn did not answer his questions, but stared at him, clearly waiting for the answer they knew was coming. "We said, we said two words…we said…" He mumbled for what felt like ages when he finally stopped in mid-sentence, jerking his head toward us again and widening his eyes. A malicious grin spread over his bony face, and he cackled before whispering menacingly, "Shire…Baggins."

Aragorn gasped, dropping the lantern and causing Gollum to begin laughing even louder, almost maniacally. The lantern immediately blazed brighter and then diminished among the shards of glass that lay beneath our feet. My Elf eyes were still able to see the look on Legolas and Aragorn's faces, and neither of them looked very pleased. I had no idea what "Shire" or "Baggins" meant, but I could tell the two words together in the hands of Sauron was not a comforting thought.


	21. Great Orcs

**Brace yourself, guys...this one's a little intense, not to mention long!**

**Also, I'm going to change the title of this story to Tomorrow Never Knows, after the song by The Beatles. So expect that change soon...but I'll keep this up here just so everyone knows!**

-------

"But I thought we already knew that he'd told Sauron where the Ring is," I interjected, nearly sprinting up the stairs in order to stay on Legolas and Aragorn's heels. Aragorn stopped immediately after that comment, causing me to run into him and hit my jaw squarely on his spine and fall down a stair. I rubbed my jaw, displeased.

"Laina, you have no idea how specific Gollum has been with Sauron," Aragorn breathed huskily, stating this as if he had just allowed that knowledge to sink in. "He told him exactly where it is and exactly who has it…" Aragorn's voice trailed off and even from behind I could tell he was momentarily lost in thought. Legolas had stopped too, looking at his friend with the most concerned, knitted-eyebrow-look he could muster. Legolas looked away quickly as Aragorn's eyes seemed to refocus, and Legolas took to staring uneasily at his feet and swallowing hard. Aragorn took a deep breath before jerking his head up the stairs and beginning to run again. I had almost not noticed that the two of them were now many steps in front of me and I took off after them, nipping at their heels.

---------------

"What are we to do, Aragorn?" Thranduil asked, bewilderment etched into his aging features. Though Thranduil was an Elf, this did not stop his once flawless skin from wrinkling, though minimally, over the thousands of years. And now this. I had a feeling that with the wheels grinding as they had begun to, we would all age before our time. And maybe, I thought, our time would now be far too short.

"I must bring this news to Rivendell," Aragorn answered after a while, pacing with both hands entwined on the back of his head as if he were lying down on a stone pillow.

"And what of us?" Legolas asked, not pacing like the rest of us had taken to in small labyrinths around Thranduil's study, but standing near a wall, legs straight, head straight, arms straight as if he were being called to attention and inspected for his posture. Come to think of it, I had never seen Legolas pace before, and I supposed his way of coping was different than mine (and Aragorn's and Thranduil's, apparently). I was stuck in a perpetual maze of one foot in front of the other, hands holding one another behind my back and head turning constantly to look at everyone's solemn expressions. I noticed a few times that Legolas' eyes were following me about the room, but every time I tried to look back into his eyes, he moved them hurriedly. I wondered briefly what he was doing before remembering again the very grim issue at hand.

"I will send word," Aragorn replied, sighing as he had taken to doing, over and over in the past few minutes.

"And we are to simply wait for your word?" I interrupted both the conversation and my pacing to stop and stare pleadingly at Thranduil, but Thranduil only caught my eye for a moment before letting his gaze return to the path he was walking.

"What else can we do?" Thranduil wondered aloud. I was still stopped in the middle of the room, watching Thranduil pace. I noticed for the first time how much Legolas resembled him; they were the same height and had the same color hair, though Thranduil's brown eyes were a bit darker than Legolas', and Thranduil was a bit more robust than Legolas. They had the same bone structure and the same expressions. Other than the very few minute differences, they could have been twins, though Thranduil's recent aging signs betrayed that.

"We have no other choice," Legolas agreed, eyeing Aragorn uncertainly before allowing his eyes to rest on me once again. I could feel them on me but I must admit I was rather enjoying the feeling, so instead of glancing back at him I kept my eyes on Thranduil.

"Then go, Aragorn, and keep a watchful eye and ear on your journey," Thranduil concluded as he stopped pacing. Aragorn stopped too, having received his orders and, bowing in front of Thranduil, left the room. I took another short look at Thranduil before hurrying out after Aragorn.

"Aragorn!" I called, seeing him in the foyer. I hurried down the winding, carpeted staircase and fell into his arms. "Please be careful," I begged, tears welling in my eyes. "And send word as soon as you can."

"I will," Aragorn replied, kissing my forehead before standing me up on my own and rubbing my arm. "I hope the next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances," he said before letting his hand drop to mine, squeezing it, and taking one last look at me before turning and hastening to the stables.

"Farewell," I said after him, though I knew he could not hear it. My heart longed for him to remain in Mirkwood, but my head knew that the fate of Middle-earth was a bit more important than my own selfish love of that human.

"My heart tells me we'll hear from him after a while, but it may be ill news." The voice startled me and I grabbed my chest in surprise before turning to meet him. I could barely see him in the dark of the castle, and it was so late that the lanterns had long since been put out. I sighed as his silhouette moved toward me.

"I don't want to deal with this, Legolas," I admitted, allowing him to put his strong, archer's arms around me and pull me close.

"None of us do, Laina, but of course we must do what we can to keep the Dark Lord from finding that Ring." I knew that much, but why did this have to happen during my lifetime? Couldn't I have already sailed west with the rest of my family, to Aman, before this cycle of events began? Yet I had elected not to go with them. I wanted to curse Ilúvatar for allowing this to happen, but I had not the strength to raise my voice. "Let's go," Legolas whispered after a while. I raised a sleepy eyebrow at him before allowing him to grab my wrist and direct me to his room.

"I have my own room, Greenleaf," I insisted, yawning.

"I'm only saving you the sprint to my room when you get nightmares," Legolas replied, a cheeky edge to his voice, motioning to his bed. Nightmares?

"Nightmares?" I allowed my thoughts to form words.

"Like you used to," Legolas explained, turning his back to me and stretching before slowly lifting his shirt over his head. A chill ran down my spine as I watched the way the moonlight kissed the soft skin on his arched back. I turned away quickly when his body language told me he would turn around.

"What do you mean?" I asked, avoiding his half-naked body and instead crawling into his bed and pulling the covers up to my neck, staring at the ceiling.

"You don't remember?" Legolas asked, pulling at the knot in his hair and allowing it to fall, unbraided, down his shoulders. Not that I was watching. By my silence, he correctly assumed that I had no recollection whatsoever of nightmares, so he continued. "Laina, you used to sneak into my room almost every night because you had nightmares about creatures you described as Orcs but taller and able to move about in sunlight," Legolas mused. "As if that were possible." A chuckle escaped his lips and I furrowed my brow, feeling him climbing into bed next to me.

"Why don't I remember that?" I asked, turning to face him and noticing his head was not on his pillow because I was hogging the majority of it. He smiled at me as I moved the pillow, allowing him some room. He tossed and turned a bit to get comfortable, and finally landed with one arm on the pillow, supporting his head, which was turned toward me.

"You always suppressed those dreams," Legolas recollected suddenly, looking at my hair rather than into my eyes. "The next morning you would wake up wondering why you were lying on my floor," he remembered, smiling at the thought.

"_That _I remember," I agreed, also allowing my lips to curve into a smile. "I always figured you and Malian thought it would be funny to have me sleeping on the floor, and you had both taken to removing me from my bed while I was asleep and laying me down," I explained. Legolas chuckled again, shaking his head.

"I never told you why because you had always been so afraid of those dreams, so I kept them to myself—but Laina, you would burst into my room at around the same hour every few nights in a row, _sobbing _and telling me of these awful creatures that your mind had invented." He rolled his eyes at the memory, his smile still betraying his voice.

"That's unbelievable how those things are just erased from my memory," I considered. Legolas nodded, finally allowing his honey browns to meet my eyes just before my eyelids closed and I drifted…

..._Aragorn looked on the slain, and he said: 'Here lie many that are not folk of Mordor. Some are from the North, from the Misty Mountains, if I know anything of Orcs and their kinds. And here are others strange to me. Their gear is not after the manner of Orcs at all!' _

_There were four goblin-soldiers of greater stature, swart, slant-eyed, with thick legs and large heads. They were armed with short broad-bladed swords, not with the curved scimitars usual with Orcs; and they had bows of yew, in length and shape like the bows of Men. Upon their shields they bore a strange device: a small white hand in the centre of a black field; on the front of their iron helms was set an S-rune, wrought of some white metal._

_'I have not seen these tokens before,' said Aragorn. 'What do they mean?'_

_'S is for Sauron,' said (a Dwarf). 'That is easy to read.'_

_'Nay!' said Legolas. 'Sauron does not use the Elf-runes.'_

_'Neither does he use his right name, nor permit it to be spelt or spoken,' said Aragorn. 'And he does not use white. The Orcs in the service of Barad-dûr use the sign of the Red Eye.' _

All of this I heard in my dreams, and I saw a pack of overgrown Orcs, their black skin sweating under the sun, their long hair flowing out from under helmets baring the S-rune in white. Their teeth were rotten and crooked, their mouths spat black liquid, and their growls were much more commanding than the noises of normal Orcs.

"_NO_!" I screamed, sitting up immediately and searching the room for any sign of them. My eyes darted around uncontrollably, unable to depict anything in the room. Suddenly I felt an arm reach up and touch my back, and I screamed again and jumped out of the bed, reaching down to my ankle to retrieve a knife that was not there. I had never worn a knife on my ankle, so the move surprised even me.

"Laina!" Legolas' voice cried fearfully. "Are you okay?" I was breathing hysterically but at the sound of Legolas' voice my heart slowed a bit and my breathing became less erratic. I forced myself to swallow, wetting my throat enough so I could talk.

"I…I saw them…" I began, but Legolas held up a hand to stop me.

"I know what you saw," Legolas began, but I cut him off.

"You do _not _know what I saw, Legolas! For Varda's sake, you have no idea…" I was still hysterical. I began pacing around the room for the second time that night. "Legolas, these were _real _creatures…I could see them…I saw _you_, and…and…and _Aragorn_…and…and some _Dwarf_…" I must have sounded crazy, but the words were escaping my mouth and I could not stop them, no matter how incoherent I seemed. Legolas was staring at me, disorientated.

"Laina," he said again, trying to sound soothing, but I would not have it.

"I _saw _it Legolas, damn it," I insisted, pacing faster. "They're real, and listen…don't forget this, in case I do…they had a rune on their helms…" I was babbling, I realized, but I had to tell him in case I forgot. He had to know.

"A _rune_, Laina? Come now, Orcs don't use—"

"I _know _they don't, do you think I'm stupid?" I nearly screamed at him. He jerked his head back as if I had slapped him, and I wanted to despite the alluring nature of his half-naked body under those sheets and the very lovingly concerned face he had put on. I suddenly wished with all my might that he could feel the fear that I was feeling, and then he would understand that what I had seen was real.

"Legolas," I began again, rather scolding this time, "just listen…please." I stopped pacing and walked back to the bed, sitting down as close to Legolas as I could and placing one of my hands on his chest, directly over his heart. The pained expression in my face was soon mirrored onto his, and his heart sped up. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I had to try to make him understand. His breath became slightly abnormal, and I pressed harder, closing my eyes and envisioning what I had seen.

"I know it sounds crazy," I whispered, "but you have to believe…just close your eyes…S-runes in white on their helms, and white hands on their shields...and they are not normal Orcs…they're not from Mordor," I continued to whisper, willing the visions to Legolas with my entire soul. I was pressing so hard on his chest it was a wonder he did not fall over from the weight, but he was sitting straight up in his bed, and I could feel that his eyes were closed and he was concentrating, his breathing coming faster and his heart beating wildly.

I thought I had felt eternity when I had woken up next to him that morning, but the moment that followed was longer than eternity and it seemed to stretch into the realm of unconsciousness and consciousness at the same time, something alive yet dead and slow yet fast and simple yet complex. The duality of the everlasting moment was surprising, yet comfortable. My breath caught in my throat, and I noticed I was holding it longer than possible under normal circumstances. The room began to spin around us, and with my hand on Legolas' heart, we became one, spinning faster and faster around the vision of the Great Orcs and the journey ahead. I opened my eyes to see a blinding light bend around us, picking us up and taking us into another world, a future. Legolas had stopped breathing too, and his eyes popped open to watch us spinning, held together by the light.

My entire body tensed as the motion began to make me sick, and it took every fiber in my body that I could muster to remove my hand from Legolas' chest. The light immediately faded and the world stopped moving, and we were left slouched on the bed, breathing so hard that we both became light-headed, and with the sight of Legolas withering onto his back, I let my eyelids close and unconsciousness took over.

-------------------

**A/N**: All of the italicized words are not original; in fact, they are Tolkien's and they can be found in The Two Towers, Chapter I: The Departure of Boromir. And, the reason for this "_'S is for Sauron,' said (a Dwarf). 'That is easy to read.'_" is that the original work says "said Gimli," but I did not want to introduce a character whose name Laina could not possibly have known. So, he is merely "a Dwarf" in her dream, since no one calls him "Gimli" in this exerpt.


	22. The Nightmares Continue

**A/N: **I know, I know… it's been a while. Again. Well, I just got back to school a few weeks ago after Christmas break so I've been going to new classes and trying to get a hang of things. Haven't really felt the urge to write lately, until today that is. Don't worry though, I promise to keep this updated as often as possible! You know me. Also, I just wanted to let all of you lovely reviewers out there how much I appreciate your reviews and…I'm so glad you like it! Keeping me motivated, haha.

Kira – I'm glad you like it! Yes, do keep reading.

Remember 1105 – Don't think I've mentioned this, but nice pen name. Fan of V, hm? Great movie. Well, I'm glad you're intrigued. Hopefully it keeps you around.

happyangel123 – Basically, what just happened is Laina had a nightmare about the Uruk-hai, but is not sure what to call them since they don't really exist yet, or not to her knowledge or anyone else's. Then, she wanted Legolas to be able to see the Great Orcs as well, so she sort of…transferred her visions to him. Somehow. Weird power.

SilverUnicorn66 – Glad you like it!  Keep reading.

virgo-valentina – Here you go…

------

A buzzing in my ear too loud to ignore woke me from my restless sleep. My dreams hung around even after my eyes opened, blanketing my thoughts. I saw, growing from beneath the bed, a tree old beyond my reckoning, smelling of bark and stale air, its roots tearing the seams from the carpeted floor. The tree reached beyond the ceiling so I could not see its top, but a few branches hung over me, suicidal leaves falling lifeless from them, resting beside me before becoming invisible. Though I did not hear the floor breaking, I thought for a fleeting instant that the tree had moved, taking a step forward before collecting its leaves and vanishing with the rest of my dreams.

I stretched and yawned, rubbing my eyes to assure myself that no more visions from my dreams haunted my waking. As I rubbed, I noticed Legolas lying haphazardly beside me, blanketed up to his neck, a rather agitated sleep that had descended upon him was lifting. I saw his eyelids flutter dangerously before allowing him to regain his vision.

I listened to the stifled groan that escaped his lips and watched him reach his arms above his body, the muscles in them silently grateful for the joy of movement. His eyes wandered a moment around the room before finding me, and he sat upright quickly, his blanket tucked under his arms so as to keep it from falling below his collarbone.

"How can you have that much energy in the morning?" I ventured a question despite the completely stunned expression engraved in his eyes. He was letting them wander over me, not in a suggestive or cheeky way, but in an astonished, disbelieving way. I raised an eyebrow at him. "By the way," I began again, seeing he would say nothing, "why in Arda am I in your bed?" The answer could not have been…well, no. It only crossed my mind for a second before I dismissed it altogether, part of me nagging at myself for thinking it, and part of me dropping to my toes at the thought. Legolas, however, seemed in utter amazement as he stared at me. With every passing second I wanted to know the answer more, and after staring back at him for a while I thumped him on the nose. He stopped his long gaze to rub his nose disapprovingly.

"Laina…" Legolas began, but could not continue. I thumped him on the nose again, prompting a response. "Laina, you don't remember what you saw last night, do you?" he said slowly, almost unable to believe himself.

"Leaf, I'd really like to know what in Varda's name you're on about," I insisted a bit snappishly.

"Last night you had a nightmare…Laina, you can't tell me you've forgotten," Legolas was distraught. He began to explain to me the exact events of the night before, and under normal circumstances I would have told him to shut up because he was being childish, thinking one of his dreams actually occurred, but listening to him talk about _me _and the way _I _was talking about these—what?—"Great Orcs" convinced me. I wondered instantly why he would have believed me at all, until he mentioned my somehow transferring my vision to him. This had all gone too far.

"Stop right there," I interrupted uncomfortably as Legolas was describing a bending white light. "I'm not special, Leaf, I don't possess the power to conjure or have premonitions or _transfer _any thoughts I have to _you_," I was saying. Legolas shook his head in disagreement. I wanted to punch him. "_Please_!" I yelled angrily, getting up from the bed and beginning to pace his room. By now I must have paced at least a few miles just around various rooms since the night before. "I won't believe it, Greenleaf, I won't. I'm not powerful," I muttered.

"I don't know what power you possess, Laina, but you have it," Legolas maintained. He was looking up at me expectantly, as if at any moment I would burst into flame and begin projecting the entire future for everyone to watch.

"I don't have _power_," I said adamantly.

"Well, whether or not you do, you saw something in your sleep last night that may prove helpful to us," Legolas replied.

"To _whom_?"

"To Aragorn and I, and that…that _Dwarf_," Legolas answered, a bit disgusted.

"Why would you, Aragorn, and a _Dwarf _be on the trail of giant Orcs?" I yelled hysterically, wanting to laugh.

"I don't know, Laina, but you believed it, and so do I," Legolas answered, releasing the blanket from under his arms. I watched as it fell slowly to his navel, eyeing his half-naked body as I vaguely remembered doing the night before. As I scanned his chest, I noticed a slightly reddened area of skin. I felt my eyebrows knit as I took a step toward him again. He had been watching me too, and at my peculiar behavior he looked down at his chest, staring at the same reddened patch of skin. Was it…no. It wasn't in the shape of a… I took another step closer, thinking my Elf eyes were deceiving me. I should have remembered they never had before. Taking one last step closer and running into the end of the bed, I squinted hard at the red patch of skin.

"Legolas," I breathed, crawling onto the bed and reaching tentatively to his chest, placing my hand over it. The mark fit perfectly. "It's my…"

"Hand," Legolas finished.

--------

**A few months later – January, Year 3018 of the Third Age**

"Get—out—of—my—forest!" I yelled, letting an arrow fly with each maddened word. Five Orcs fell to the ground, their mouths curled into screams that never escaped. I stood triumphant underneath the tree that used to be my family's flet, sighing.

"Laina, you alright?" Malian's voice called from above me. He was now known as the master of the trees, for he climbed into one every time a large band of Orcs came traipsing through our Wood, sniping them from above.

"Fine!" I called back, silently patting myself on the back for never disposing of his friendship completely. Not only had he been useful to have around when Legolas was too busy, but he was, as he always had been, easy to talk to and very protective. And, another plus, Kaethe's family had decided to sail into the West and Kaethe was too busy mourning their passing to reveal herself to the Wood much anymore. Though this took its toll on Malian, I could not admit that seeing less of her around was not a welcomed development.

Malian swung himself from the tree, landing upright on his two feet as if he were lighter than a leaf. "Looks like it's our turn to handle Gollum," he said, brushing off his sleeve and offering an elbow for me to take. I scanned the trees around us for another moment before deciding no more Orcs were in hiding and taking his elbow, allowing him to lead me to the dungeons.

Every fortnight, Gollum had two new caretakers. Though we were constantly on patrol, Malian and I took pity on him and never minded feeding him or listening to his absent ramblings, and decided to stay an extra few days taking care of him. After all, he was a creature of Ilúvatar too and deserved to be treated with some sort of respect. He could not have known what he would be setting into motion by telling Sauron what he had.

"Gollum," I said soothingly, staring through the bars at the mass of bones covered in stretched skin. "It's time for your walk," I said, coaxing him carefully with one finger through the bars. Gollum's lamplike eyes turned to us, observing us for a moment before reluctantly approaching the bars. He allowed me to fasted a rope around his neck and hand the other end to Malian before reaching into my pocket, pulling out a key, and tentatively opening his cell. Malian quickly wound the rope out from between the bars and held it tightly, both of us fixed intently on Gollum's slouching figure, still standing just inside his cell.

"Coming?" Malian asked, tugging the rope a bit. Gollum mumbled before taking a step forward. I was relieved that he had not tried to sprint away as he had done so many times before. As of late, however, Gollum had taken to simply obeying and seemed to have abandoned any ill-conceived escape plan.

Malian and I rather enjoyed our time with Gollum, mostly because he was one of the few still in Mirkwood who did not have some sort of agenda. I had seen much less of Legolas lately, because he was almost always on patrol. Thranduil did not trust anyone as much as he trusted his son and would therefore trust no one to lead a patrol unit like Legolas. I understood, too, because over past few years I had spent in Mirkwood, I had never seen quite as many Orcs. It was impossible to go a night on patrol without shooting fifty arrows.

The Orcs were not the only bad omens. It was as if a thick fog had descended upon the land, causing both anxiety and depression in every Elf in the Wood. Though we all tried to keep it light, our intuitive natures nagged at us, poked us, whispered in our ears that something terrible was happening. Something dark, something uncontrollable, and that someone somewhere needed out help.

I had taken to sleeping in rooms various Elves every night, because the nightmares would not go away. Though I never remembered them the next morning, I could feel my body growing weaker—to the point where I had spent entire nights reading or cleaning or even patrolling (if Legolas would allow me to patrol at night, which was rare) because I refused to sleep. Though some of the nightmares may have been helpful, Malian and Legolas had grown tired of being told of their impending doom every night, so they told me that when I awoke all I would do is pace around their rooms for a while before tucking myself back in. I refused to disturb anyone else with the nightmares I was experiencing. At one point, Legolas had insisted I keep him posted on what I dreamt about, but mostly they were scattered things that did not make any sense, like walking trees or Great Orcs or burning lands…I was happy to simply forget them.

When Malian and I decided Gollum had hopped about enough, we took him back and locked him in his cell, like we did every night. I watched Gollum slink back in without reprimand. Well, at least with all the bad things, there came a semi-comfortable routine.

"Legolas' room tonight?" Malian asked as we made our way up the stairs toward the front of the castle.

"I think so," I agreed, yawning. I had not slept the night before.

"Sleep well then," Malian said as we entered the halls, taking my hand in his and kissing my knuckles before turning on his heel and walking tiredly to his room.

I waved after him before strolling to Legolas' room, not bothering to knock on the door before pushing it open. Legolas was sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling off his shoes and shirt. Even after spending many nights in his room, his half-naked body still sent chills dripping down my spine, so I looked away.

"Evening," Legolas said offhandedly, not turning to look at me.

"Rough night?" I asked, noticing the scratches on the backs of his arms.

"Had a run-in with a tree," Legolas explained, collapsing on his bed without bothering to wash his face, hands, or body and without unbraiding his hair.

"Right," I smiled, crawling into bed next to him. Legolas turned toward me and took a deep breath as if he were going to say something, but after a moment he exhaled without saying a word. I raised one eyebrow at him. He had done the same thing every night I spent with him for a fortnight or more, and I was growing tired of his silence. "Yes?"

"What?" Legolas asked, pretending to be confused. I shook my head.

"When are you going to tell me what you've been trying to tell me for a while now?" I wondered, eyeing him.

"I just wanted to say…goodnight," Legolas answered hesitantly. I raised another skeptical eyebrow at him but decided not to press it further. I closed my eyes, trying my best to feel what he was feeling, to sense his emotions, but a great barrier had been erected between us and I felt nothing. It was almost as if his presence were undetectable.

"Goodnight," I replied before allowing myself a few moments of restless sleep.


	23. Bleeding

**A/N:**

Remember 1105 – So sorry for not updating sooner, but hopefully you like this update.

Coquettish Siren – Really, Legolas should just speak up…silly Elf. Well, hopefully we'll know how he's feeling soon.

Mandi – Ah my ever-loyal fan! You're the best. And…gosh, I don't know what he was going to say to her. Whatever it is, I hope he says it soon. Before it's too late. ;)

geminitwinz – Wow, all in one day, that's insane! Well sorry I haven't updated sooner but hopefully you like this chapter.

HuNkYcHuNkYmOnKeY97030 – Well here it is!

**Also, loyal readers, don't forget that I'm changing the title of this piece after the next update. It'll be called "Tomorrow Never Knows," so keep that in mind when looking for it! Anyway, onward.**

--------

I was bleeding. That's all I could tell at first, until I slowly forced my eyes open. Dirt. Leaves. I tried to lift my head to no avail. My arm cooperated, though, and I brought my hand to my face, felt the dirt smeared on my cheek. I touched my nose tentatively, but the contact alone sent pain shooting through my face, causing my head to throb. I could only breathe through my open mouth; the blood caked in my nostrils prevented easy breathing. I felt my mouth; my bottom lip was swollen, also caked in dried blood. I put my hand on the ground and tried to push myself up, but realized I needed the aid of my other hand. Surprisingly, that hand responded to my silent command too, and with both hands on the ground I pushed myself up from it, forcing my body into a sitting position.

My body immediately tried to reject this position as blinding white pain coursed from my thigh to my head and back down, but never reached my toes; I could not feel them. I heard the leaves rustling, tangled in my hair and I searched my body for the culprit of the pain. My eyes darted to my right thigh, which was covered in dark red liquid that had seeped through my clothes and into the ground beneath me. I instantly felt sick, turning my head to reject my insides on the ground beside me. I noticed my hands, shaking and dangerously white. I needed help. My leg was still bleeding.

I did not know how long I had been lying on the ground surrounded by nothing but hushed trees. The last thing I remembered was taking aim at an Orc when another one blindsided me. I remembered searing pain in my leg and then crumpling onto the ground…

The trees around me were growing darker with each moment I sat and stared. I knew I could not move, and sitting alone was making me dizzy. I felt cold and lightheaded, but walking was not an option, so I stayed there, watching the trees grow darker, hoping someone would find me.

Eventually, after concentrating on clearing my mind and trying to help myself, I remembered my healing training, and pulled off my top, wrapping it around my leg to stop the bleeding. With my tongue between my dried, cracked, swollen lips, I made a makeshift bandage, too dizzy to feel the pain that I knew was racing like fire through my body. I tried to swallow but could not manage it and was becoming so exhausted that I let my body fall onto the ground once again.

I promised myself I would stay conscious for as long as possible, but the long was becoming short and I felt myself fading in and out of sleep. The air was crisp and cold against my skin and was burning my eyes, so I let them remain closed. The dreams I had were dark and awful, always looming over me when I woke up. I did not know how long I would have to lie there.

I may have died there…

"She has lost too much blood," an unfamiliar female voice said from the darkness in front of me. The voice was muffled and far away, but I could hear the words clearly.

"We can only keep the bandage on and keep her hydrated," another voice responded, this one male, "and hope."

"She's strong," the female voice asserted, "I can feel it."

I did not have the strength to open my eyes, so I kept them closed and let myself drift again…

When I woke up again, I felt heavy breathing over me, and burning eyes watching me expectantly. I had been enjoying a nightmare-less sleep for the first time in a while, but nevertheless I found it within myself to let the sunlight in, and a blurry vision with sawdust-blonde hair and gray eyes followed.

"Laina?" he said, jumping out of his chair. I took my eyes from him and surveyed the room around me. I had been here before. The hospital wing.

"Mmm," I replied.

"You're awake," he exclaimed, looming over me, letting worry cloud his face. "Laina, I was so afraid…"

"Féoras?" I managed to croak, feeling my lips crack and give with every movement of my mouth. I let my tongue wet them slightly, momentarily relieving my pain.

"They told me they could not find you," Féoras began animatedly. "I came looking, I found you lying there in a pool of blood…" his voice trailed off and I felt my cheeks grow hot. He had saved me. "Anyway, well, I am sorry I have not seen you lately," he added, gallantly changing the subject.

I nodded, gulping. "Thank you," I managed before letting my eyes close again. I was very grateful for Féoras in that moment, but I also did not feel like talking to him. For some reason, I wanted him to leave. I felt him staring at me for another few moments before I heard him turn and shuffle away.

Just as soon as he had gone, light, fast footsteps reach my ears. The doors to the hospital wing burst open, but I was unable to sit up to see who it was. It had not mattered, for he nearly jumped on the bed beside me anyway.

"Laina!" Legolas nearly screamed, looking me over wide-eyed. "You're never patrolling again," was the next thing he said, and before I could protest he continued, "This is all my fault. Oh,Ilúvatar, Laina, look at you…" His honey browns traveled to my face and I felt the walls around him start to crack and crumble. A dam had been broken and a waterfall of emotions was gushing into his eyes, onto his face and down his body, splashing onto me.

"Do I look that bad?" I asked, smiling up at him, allowing his feelings to drench me completely.

"Oh, _Ilúvatar_," Legolas breathed again, bending over and digging under me with his arms, pulling me into a limp hug. Coarse pain shot from my thigh to my head and I was blinded by it. I tried my hardest not to scream, but the ensuing body jolt was enough to force Legolas to let go. "I'm sorry!" he said hurriedly, placing me back onto my pillow carefully. "Laina, Laina…I'm so sorry…"

For the first time in what felt like years, Legolas was allowing me to see the sensitive side of him. He sat down on the side of my bed and just looked at me with those concerned honey brown eyes, placing his hands all over me, in my hair, on my face, tracing my lips, on my forehead, down my arms, on my shoulders. I thought he would have started crying by now.

"_Leaf_," I finally managed to say firmly, causing his hands to move, frightened, from my wrists. "I'm fine and this isn't your fault," I added. Though I wanted him to stay, I knew he had to go back on patrol. Letting him fawn over me all day and night would not have been acceptable. They needed him out there. Legolas gave me a pleading sigh, but my voice was resolute and he sighed, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek before getting up to leave.

-----

In a few days, I was feeling much stronger and I talked the healers into letting me out a few days early. I had a large bandage around my leg, and I was limping, but my broken nose was healing nicely and my lips were no longer swollen and bruised. As soon as I made my way out of the hospital wing, I went to see Féoras. I asked around and the general consensus was that he would be at the archery range, so I made my way there carefully, down the path and away from the halls. I had been inside far too long and was thoroughly enjoying the smell of the trees and the grass. I saw out of the corner of my eye a few patrols every few steps. I wondered how much man power they were using to patrol our borders, and how long we would have to fight for our land against the darkness.

I finally made it to the clearing where the archers were practicing, and I saw Féoras immediately, aiming his arrow at the target. I called out his name and he let the arrow go soaring through the air, missing its mark completely. I laughed as he hurried up to me, dropping his bow and taking me carefully into his arms. I rested my head against his chest, smelling the rather enchanting smell of wood and sweat that mingled beneath his clothes.

"I'm so glad you are well," Féoras said into my hair. His strong arms around me sent little chills down my spine. I finally broke the embrace and he put his hands carefully behind my pointed ears, making me see him eye-to-eye. I surveyed his eyes then, and saw beneath them a warmth that I had not recognized before.

"I owe you," I whispered, smiling and allowing him to pull my head forward and kiss my cheek. I felt a slight burning sensation where his lips met my skin.

"Let me eat by your side tonight," Féoras said into my ear. Another chill, a minor shudder. I contemplated this for a moment, and I caught myself wondering how Legolas would react. I felt slightly disgusted at my own thoughts. Why would he care? Just because I normally sat between him and Malian at dinner did not mean I had no right to sit anywhere else. Besides, it was a little awkward, with Malian and Legolas still not talking. Many times I had wondered when that little debate would subside, but though Legolas was clearly over Kaethe (who did not eat dinner with anyone, and in fact, who had not been seen by anyone except Malian for quite some time…thank Ilúvatar), he was not ready to forgive Malian for betraying him. Most of the time I was caught in between two conversations, with both Legolas and Malian fighting for my attention. It was exhausting, really, and I should have been much more excited to sit with Féoras, Elf-who-had-saved-my-life, rather than Legolas and Malian, the forever pig-headed.

"Alright," I finally replied after having mulled it over. Féoras smiled a genuine smile I had not seen on him before, and I found myself hoping I would see it more often. "I'll meet you at the dinner table then," I agreed. Féoras nodded and kissed my cheek again, taking my hand in his and squeezing it before returning to his bow and quiver of arrows. I found myself skipping on the way back to the halls.

_Honestly_. Where had the former Laina gone? The witty one whose only true love was flirting with a dirty Ranger at home in Imladris? A few years ago I would have made some catty remark. A few years ago I never would have let Aragorn leave without me. A few years ago I would have gotten off that ground in the middle of the forest and saved myself. Mirkwood was sucking the life out of me.

But then, what was so wrong with dinner?


	24. The Sickening Truth

**A/N:**

brownie24 – Dinner _should _be interesting… oh no, silly Elves.

Coquettish Siren – I know, right? But Féoras is so likeable, and Legolas hasn't been too open with his emotions yet, has he?

HuNkYcHuNkYmOnKeY97030 – Well here's another one!

Remember 1105 – She is definitely confused. ::sigh::

MBDTA – I know, I'm a sucker for cliffhangers.

geminitwinz – I hope this was soon enough!

amrawo – Aw, I'm glad you like it. As for Leggy and Laina, well, we'll see…

---------------

What was wrong with dinner? Well, nothing. Almost nothing.

I had not bothered to dress nicely or anything. It was just a normal dinner in the Great Hall. Féoras, to my chagrin, sat across from Legolas and I saw the empty seat between him and Malian. For a while, neither of them noticed I was sitting across from them. They never really noticed Féoras too much, as quiet as he usually was, and neither of them even looked up from their plates for quite some time. The entire situation was a bit awkward, especially with Féoras turning his head to watch me eat every few seconds and me tentatively looking up at Legolas and Malian to see if they would ever notice. I saw Malian glance to his left a few times, realizing I was not present. Legolas then began to notice as well. Well, this was getting awkward enough for me.

I cleared my throat audibly and both Malian and Legolas' faces shot up. Malian raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly, but Legolas choked on his food. I wanted to laugh but I felt badly for not informing him of my seating arrangements, so I merely smiled and waved. Legolas stopped eating.

"What are you doing over there?" he asked finally, his eyes a bit cloudy for my liking.

"Eating?" I replied, putting a piece of meat in my mouth and chewing it nonchalantly.

"Right, but why over there?" he asked, actually bewildered. I wanted to thump him on the nose but he was too far away so I rolled my eyes instead.

"I'm eating with Féoras," I said, indicating him with a slight jerk of my head.

Legolas' head jerked back. "_Who_?" What did he mean who?

"What do you mean _who_? _Him_," I insisted, jabbing Féoras in the shoulder, causing him to cough a bit and look up timidly at Legolas. Legolas continued to eye the two of us, taken aback and—was it?—angry. His cheeks blushed and he looked down at his meal haughtily.

"Oh," he said to his plate rather than to us. I turned my head to look at Féoras and we both shrugged at one another, continuing to eat. Legolas said nothing more.

Aside from that tidbit of an awkward encounter, dinner was fine.

Who am I kidding? It was a disaster. Legolas brooded for the rest of the time and Féoras and I did not say much, partly because of Legolas and partly because there was nothing _to _say. So, Féoras, how's the weather? Get shot at by any Orcs lately? How do you think the world is going to end?

After dinner, though, Féoras and I took a walk around the halls. I tried not to notice Legolas stalking off in the direction of the archery range; he usually never practiced before patrol, but I decided to put it out of my mind. Féoras and I walked and talked about nothing in particular, but I do remember the bit of tension between us as we wandered the castle. He kept touching my elbow to direct me or grabbing my arm to help with my limp, the contact sending warning signals to my head. I was unsure of what they were warning me against, but it probably had something to do with my libido. By that I mean I had to be a lot more careful with Féoras than any male I had been with before, in that he was a bit more sensitive and probably a lot more caring than the average male.

I grew tired after a while and Féoras offered to walk me to my room. By now even he knew that I usually spent the night with others to cure my recurring nightmares, so he walked me to Legolas' room and bid me goodnight outside of his door with a small kiss on the cheek and, if I was not mistaken, a rather loving smile. I watched him walk away, noticing the way his stride accentuated his muscular legs and back. More warning signals to my head. I shook it and pushed Legolas' door open sheepishly.

"Leaf?" I said loudly, but no answer came and I figured he was probably still on patrol. Well, there was no harm in sleeping just a little before he got in. I would brave a bit of sleep alone. I lay down, but the dress I was wearing was quickly becoming too uncomfortable to sleep in, so I pulled it over my head and threw it casually on the floor beside Legolas' bed, allowing my head to hit the pillow with a soft _thump_ and falling almost immediately into a quiet sleep.

--------------

I awoke to a hand on my cheek and I felt a burning sensation that suggested eyes trailing my body. The hand moved onto my neck, the gentle fingers caressing, moving down to my bare shoulder, down my arm, over my hip… The hand began to move up again, slower this time, touching my stomach and moving up into dangerous regions.

I opened my eyes. The movement ceased and the hand jerked away, and I saw Legolas' embarrassed face beside mine. I squinted at him for a moment, trying to read the expression on his face but I could feel nothing. Suddenly, Legolas put his hand behind my head and propelled me forward, causing our lips to meet hungrily. I was too tired to recognize my own actions and I felt myself allowing this to happen, allowing his wandering hands to take over and letting his tongue lustfully lick my lips and dart into my mouth.

Wait. _Shit_. "Legolas," I mumbled forcefully, managing to separate myself from his grasp. He let me go and looked at me, eyes filled with desire. It was almost sickening. "What in Varda's name are you doing?" I asked, my voice rising. What was he thinking? I felt dirty and was quickly becoming nauseated at the sight of him lying there, his half-naked body shielded with blankets, the pleading in his eyes.

"Laina, I can't stop myself anymore," he finally admitted. I moved a bit further away on the bed, wondering how I could stand without exposing my entire body.

"What do you mean?" I wondered angrily, still moving further from him until I felt my foot slide off the edge of the bed. Legolas moved forward, closing the gap, bringing his face so close to mine that I could smell the sweetness of his breath, and could feel it clouding my face.

"I've wanted you for so long," he said, his eyes gently longing for my lips, my body.

"_What_?" I wanted to scream, but it came out as a hoarse whisper instead. "What in Middle-earth has gotten into you, Leaf?" I grabbed one of the blankets on his bed and used it as a makeshift screen between Legolas' eyes and my naked body. I fumbled around for my dress on the floor.

"Don't go," Legolas begged, grabbing a sheet and standing up too, hurrying to the door to block my path.

"Are you out of your skull?" I yelled at him, nearly thumping him on the nose but thinking better of it, seeing as it was more a sign of affection than anything else.

"Laina, I can't stop thinking about you. When you were hurt, I was so worried…and tonight at dinner, I wanted you away, far, far away from Féoras, and I realized…I wanted you beside me…"

"Stop," I insisted, holding up one hand and indicating that he should get out of my way, _now_. "Move."

"No," Legolas argued. When had he become so childish? When had he become so dependent on me? When had he decided he—_what_?—wanted me?

"Leaf, I don't know what you thought would happen tonight but I'm not here to be pawed and I am certainly not here to tell you I want you back," I spat. The nerve! That sickening, pleading look in his eyes was not going away and I could not stand it anymore.

"Laina," Legolas implored, taking a step forward and putting his arms around me.

"Leaf, get _off _of me, this isn't a joke!" I yelled, prying myself away from his arms and opening the door hastily.

"I've tried to stay away from you, Laina, I've tried to keep myself from looking at you as you sleep but you insist on staying here and I would not have it any other way. I tried to hide it from you but I can't anymore," Legolas was saying, but I was nearly running very fast away from his room. "I can't control myself around you!" Legolas was calling after me. I wanted to vomit.


	25. Teaching

**A/N:**

HuNkYcHuNkYmOnKeY97030 - I know, what was she thinking? _Hello_? Hot Elf who just so happens to have confessed his love to you! I know what I would have done in that situation. ;)

Coquettish Siren - Ah, I don't know if I have a good explanation other than, well, I guess she doesn't like him! Legolas is gonna have to try a little harder to get where he wants to go...

brownie24 - I know, I know... I can't believe she reacted that way. Silly Elves! But then, they _are _supposed to be best friends... she just had no idea he felt as strongly as he does.

**Also, I wanted to say I haven't gotten as many reviews for this last chapter as usual -- hopefully the title change didn't throw everyone off? Either way, I hope you guys make it back here alright and keep reading and reviewing! Well, onward.**

------------

"_Teaching_?" I screamed angrily at Thranduil, who was sitting behind his desk with a rather amused smirk curving his lips. It was the middle of the day and the sunlight was streaming into the room through the windows, casting shadows on Thranduil's face. He was lucky, because if I had been able to see the extent to which he was grinning I might have chucked a dagger at him.

"I'm afraid Legolas has forbid me to let you back on patrol," he answered, shrugging his broad shoulders slightly. I could tell this battle would not be an easy one, and I was already losing. The Prince and the King were both against me. I was fuming.

"Well, Thranduil, you can just tell Prince Legolas that I absolutely re_fuse _to teach Elflings and I will go back on the patrol whether he likes it or not!" I yelled, crossing my arms in front of my chest and feeling my face turn redder with each maddening second. Thranduil seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much at my expense, just like his son had been last night. I winced at the thought of the previous night's engagements, and cursed myself for not being able to notice when emotions were hurtled my direction. I should have known better than to sleep in his bed, especially _naked _- I resisted the urge to hit myself on the forehead with my palm as I glared at a smiling Thranduil.

After a moment or two, he shook his head and wet his lips with his tongue before responding carefully. "If Legolas does not want you on patrol, Laina, then I cannot allow it." I continued to glare at him, momentarily wishing a horrible injury upon both him and his idiot of a son.

"Where is he?" I asked through gritted teeth. Thranduil chuckled, his dark blonde mane rippling to his shoulders regally. If glares were arrows Thranduil would have been punctured a million times over. I waited for his answer, but none came, so I repeated, "_Where _is he, Thranduil?" I could feel my voice rising but was unable to stop it. I knew it was highly inappropriate for me to be yelling at the King, but he was being an insufferable dolt!

Thranduil's smile turned cold after a moment's time, and his voice became suddenly harsh. "Legolas is awaiting your presence in the foyer. He has gathered a group of young Elves who are in need of learning what you know about healing," Thranduil's tone was resolute. "He will take you to the main supply room where desks have been set up, and you should be able to find all the supplies you need in order to train them," he explained as if I had enthusiastically taken the job and was awaiting instruction. I merely continued to stare daggers at him as he talked. "Of course, it would be best for them to train on actual subjects, but as they are currently unskilled at healing, a few Elves have elected themselves to be your wounded," Thranduil finished. Elves had actually volunteered to play dead for this stupid job? How important was this healing business?

"Expecting a lot of wounds sometime soon?" I asked, deciding not to push my luck further and instead to take up my issues with his son.

"Of course we like to expect the worst," Thranduil replied, his mood lightening and a smile playing on his lips again. "With the Shadow growing and Orcs in our wood multiplying, I am certain you see the foresight in training healers. Many others have been recruited to teach healing classes, too, so you will not be the only one," the King said, placing his strong hands upon his desk and hoisting himself from his chair. He walked around the desk to me, gently laying one of his hands on my right shoulder. His hand was heavier than I expected and I wanted to be childish and shrug it off, still fuming, but instead I managed a smile and took my leave of Thranduil. "Good luck," he said a bit under his breath as I exited.

I marched down the stairs toward the foyer, seeing a crowd of Elflings standing around Legolas, asking him questions about their new teacher. He was smiling down at them, and the dark-haired Elfling he was holding in his arms was busy tangling her hands in his golden hair and giggling every time he reprimanded her. To anyone else at this moment, the scene before me would have been endearing. I wanted to stick an arrow in his foot.

"Ah, here she is!" Legolas said to the group of children, putting down the one in his arms. Instead of moving forward like the rest, she clung to his hand and whimpered. He knelt down beside her, whispering something in her ear that caused her to giggle and release his hand, joining the others in front of me.

"You are going to teach us to help the dying people?" a little Elf asked me, turning his big, shining, blue eyes up to my face. He had hair golden to match Legolas' and the voice to melt any heart. I avoided Legolas' gaze as I looked down at the group of curious little Elflings.

"That's the general idea," I answered, "and what is your name?"

"Oryan," he answered, eyes twinkling.

"Hello Oryan, my name is Laina," I replied, still avoiding Legolas' intent stare. I could feel his eyes on me, but was determined not to look. I surveyed the rest of the crowd and was unsure of what to say, but of course, Legolas saved me from saying anything at all.

"Well, better show you to your new classroom," Legolas said to the group rather than to me, but his eyes were still on me as he began to lead us downstairs and down one of the stone corridors that branched from the main area. I recognized the doors down this corridor at once as places Legolas, Malian, and I used to hide when we played together so many years ago. I thought I could hear the ringing laughter of a fifteen-year-old Legolas, but I shook it out of my head and followed Legolas to the third supply room door on the left.

He opened the door, turning back to allow us all to enter. This room was much larger than the other supply rooms indeed, and desks had been set up. A few Elves around my age were milling about, talking amongst themselves when we entered. I supposed these were the brave volunteers. They introduced themselves as Amythaeon, Jashan, Phlegon, and Edrahil, who I noticed had rather intense green eyes. They all bowed to Legolas as they introduced themselves.

"I guess this is where I take your leave," Legolas said, finally turning to me. It was the first thing he had actually said to me since last night.

"Actually, I need a word with you," I replied bravely, thinking it better to get this out now, knowing I would eventually have to. Legolas swallowed with difficulty, obviously not expecting my forward approach, but he followed me willingly outside of the door and back into the hallway. "I hope you don't expect me to stay away from patrol for long," I warned under my breath. Legolas looked at me reproachfully.

"You're not going back on duty," Legolas replied stiffly.

"Yes I am," I responded quickly, so closely coming to allowing my voice to rise that it came out in a hoarse whisper. "Legolas, you can't stop me from helping our people," I insisted.

"_Our _people? With all due respect, the last time I checked, you were not a Princess of Mirkwood, nor a Queen, and they are _my _people that _I _need to protect. You are one of those people," Legolas responded, trying his best to keep his personal concern for me out of his voice. "And you are helping them by giving them healers," he finished, pointing authoritatively back inside the classroom. I raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Don't proceed to give me orders with a point of your finger," I admonished. "I am not one of your inferiors you can just wave away." I was not only angered by his lack of compassion, but also hurt that he was treating me like his horses. At this, the determination on his face was etched away and he softened, his arm sinking back to his side as he took a step toward me.

"I'm sorry, Laina, I didn't mean…" he began, reaching to place a daunting hand on my cheek, but I moved in time.

"_Stop _it, Leaf!" I insisted, stomping my foot in frustration. His act of superiority had infuriated me, but this sudden act of love disgusted me all over again.

"Laina, I just don't want you to be hurt again. If something happened to you--"

"_Leaf_, that's _quite _enough!" I said, taking another step back as he had moved forward again. I had hoped we would circumvent this discussion of last night, but I guessed that when the dam started to break, it really became a waterfall. Legolas' eyes were full of longing and hurt, which I promptly ignored. "I'll teach for now, but by Ilúvatar, stop looking at me like that," I asserted, ignoring his grimace and reentering the classroom, slamming the door behind me before he had a chance to reply.

-----------

The day's lesson did not go badly. In fact, I had gotten most of the Elflings' names down by the end, and all of them had grown quite fond of at least one of the volunteers. I had taught them simple cures that day, for the smallest of injuries. I had entertained their questions, and all-in-all, was rather enjoying myself in their company. I had been in the middle of demonstrating the uses of _athelas _when a tentative knock came at the door.

"Come in!" I called, hoping it was not a certain golden-tressed, lovesick moron, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a strong, sawdust-blonde-headed Elf stride into the room instead. "Féoras!" I exclaimed, momentarily forgetting my surroundings and hurrying over to hug him. A few of the girls giggled at the sight.

"How is everything?" Féoras asked, inspecting the room with his grey eyes. He smiled as his gaze turned back toward me.

"Great," I grinned in return.

"Just thought I'd check in. I heard about the commotion with King Thranduil. Heard you yelled that you refused to teach," Féoras added in a whisper, winking. It was the most cheek he had ever shown. I looked down at my feet quickly, a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, _that_," I said, studying the floor. Féoras walked over to me, placing one finger beneath my chin and raising my face toward his. More giggles ensued.

"I for one am glad Prince Legolas will not allow you back on patrol, though I know you hate it," Féoras said, ignoring the crowd of Elflings around us, all of whom were staring intently at the handsome Elf before me. "You do understand it is because Prince Legolas loves you?" I nearly choked on my breath.

"What?" I managed, coughing.

"You're his best friend, he cares a lot about you," Féoras replied solemnly, and I realized he was not hinting at anything deeper than a bond of friendship, so I regained my normal composure and, brushing off the conversation, stood on the tips of my toes, planting a smooth kiss on his cheek.

"I understand," I said rather grudgingly, knowing that he was in fact the one who did not fully understand.

"I'll let you get back to your class then," Féoras said, leaning in and making to do something a bit inappropriate for the age group, so I turned my head, landing his lips on my cheek. He smiled, turning at once to leave.

"Who was that?" a curious brown-eyed, blonde-haired Elfling named Jarthíl inquired.

"His name is Féoras," I replied, smiling after him. Jarthíl giggled behind her small hand, looking up at me as if she knew a secret only adults were supposed to be in on. I looked down at her with raised eyebrows before taking her hand and leading her back to her seat, continuing the lesson in a much better mood than I had been in when it had begun.


	26. Spiders

**I know it's been forever. Ha, I feel like that's always how I start a chapter on this story when I haven't updated in a while. Excuse? Well, it's summer! I've been out in the "real world" having "fun." Haha, but I actually have been writing this chapter for some time. A few months, perhaps. I just hadn't gotten around to posting any of it. Anyway, it's a pretty long chapter so I hope it makes up for my long absence! Hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner than this one was compared to the last. Sorry! But... enjoy. :)**

**----------------------------------**

**February, Year 3018 of the Third Age**

Fourteen days had passed since I had begun my new career as teacher and healer. The class was improving every day, though more questions were being asked as to why they needed to learn how to heal. I usually brushed off their questions with simple answers like, "This is the kind of thing every Elf should know," or "Ask your mother, I am sure she would know exactly how to use this herb as well." I only hoped their mothers would be able to quell the myriad of questions.

Fourteen days had also passed since I had seen Legolas, but I had barely noticed. Féoras had taken up most of my time, visiting during class, sitting with me over feasts, and even coming to my room to invite me for walks around the wood (albeit rather close to the halls, as the patrols insisted we stay near). Though Féoras and I talked much, he never mentioned the patrol and even _I _was too timid to ask for the details; I saw the exhaustion that consumed his body and noticed the clouding of his eyes, the distant, fatigued look that screamed for help. The entire wood balanced on the edge of a sword, often teetering far too close to total despair. Every Elf in Mirkwood knew something was coming, and the dark mist that had begun to descend over the treetops every night was not the only sign of darkness to come.

Spiders. They had always dwelt in our wood and admittedly, most Elves had had a run-in or two with them in their lives, but they had never been a real threat until now. They had begun attacking in groups, banded together by some sort of promise that they were not the only ones fighting to topple the peace of Middle-earth. Many Elves had returned at odd hours of the night, bitten with the venomous fangs of spiders half the size of oliphaunts. Though I could not be sure, I was fairly certain the hairy, eight-legged beasts had put a good number of our patrols under a healer's care.

I began to disappoint myself; I was not helping the wounded and I was not defending our borders—what was I doing?

"King Thranduil needs you to help train the Elflings," Féoras said in the calm, collected voice he had adopted for situations like this—situations in which I was storming around my chambers threatening to tear things apart unless I was put back on patrol.

"He can get someone else!" I yelled, glancing at Féoras' timid face and remembering that he was not the one who took me off patrol to begin with. I scowled at my feet, angry that I had once again been letting Féoras take all the blame when he was the one trying to soothe my bad temper.

"He needs all the other healers to help with the wounded," Féoras said after a moment, standing from the bed regally. I sighed in resignation, wanting to continue the argument—why could I help the wounded while someone else teach?—but knowing who I actually had to talk to about it. Féoras motioned for me to come closer, and I did, letting him embrace me with those strong, reassuring arms. I allowed a moment or two to pass before gently pushing him away. "I am truly sorry I must leave you now," Féoras said, placing his hands on either of my shoulders and smiling warmly down on me. Though he tried to hide it, I still saw the hopelessness in his eyes.

"Go," I replied, sighing again and watching as he turned to leave my room, heading back to patrol. I knew he was not responsible for my helpless situation, but I was avoiding the one person I really wanted to hit—that blond-haired, brown-eyed Elf who called himself a Prince. I grimaced. When had it come to this?

"A smile does everyone a bit of good," a familiar voice said from my doorway. I would have been startled if I had not been as angry as I was. I looked up to see dark brown hair juxtaposed with blue eyes, and I smiled weakly in reply. "There you go," Malian said, stepping into my room and sitting down on the bed, pulling me down with him.

"I can't take this anymore, Mal," I admitted, collapsing into a heap beside him. He looked at me from above, shaking his head.

"On the bright side, it can't get much worse."

I looked up at him, alarmed. "Don't say that! That's when things _do _get worse!" Malian chuckled.

"Alright, I apologize. Look, do not lie around in bed all day. It may be a little misty, but it is still a warm day. Go outside," he suggested, his eyes twinkling despite the rather grim tone of his voice.

"You cannot fool me, you dolt. It will only be more depressing outside," I said, closing my eyes and trying to remember the last time I saw a truly beautiful day. "Besides, I have to teach in just a little while. I better start heading toward the supply rooms." I heaved another sigh and stood, stretching and yawning. Malian watched me and shook his head.

"Let me walk you," he insisted, standing to offer his arm. I took it lazily and we strode toward the supply rooms together.

-----------

"Edrahil, what in Middle-earth do you think Caisal would say if she saw you doing this?" I admonished jokingly, watching Edrahil dancing and spinning one of the she-Elflings in a circle. She could not suppress her flirtatious giggles, and I rolled my eyes in response to Edrahil's cheeky eyebrow raise. He grinned, letting go of the Elfling and she hopped dizzily back into the crowd that had gathered around him.

"That's enough," Edrahil said after a moment or two more of uncontrollable sniggering. "Take your seats," he told them, smiling at me before stepping back with the other volunteers. The Elflings scrambled into their desks, eager to learn more about the art of healing.

"_Arnica_," I began, "reduces inflammation and pain from bruises, sprains, tendons, dislocations, and swollen areas. It improves local blood supply and accelerates healing. It is anti-inflammatory and increases the rate of reabsorption of internal bleeding. _Arnica _is usually large yellow or orange flowers," I explained, holding one up. The Elflings scribbled down notes on parchment, drawing pictures of the flower I held in my hand. "_Tarragon_ is also anti-inflammatory, and is a mild sedative—"

I would have continued, but the door to the supply room had just been flung open, and a vaguely familiar Elf stood in the doorway, dressed in the garb of the guard, looking slightly pale and very rushed. I dropped the _arnica _and stared at him.

"Lady Laina?" he asked breathlessly. I nodded uncertainly. "I have seen you with a bow, and though I have been instructed not to warn you if there is trouble, I think the patrol needs you." Most of the Elflings' eyes widened in fascination, but mine were wide in horror. I turned to the volunteers.

"Go," Edrahil whispered, and I looked at him, silently thanking him before hurrying to the visitor and pulling him out of the room, slamming the door behind us.

"And your name is?" I asked immediately, thinking of nothing else to say.

"Hisael," he replied, scanning my face hurriedly. "The Prince would cut off my head if he knew I came to find you, but I have seen you at the archery range and I have heard that you would much rather fight than teach," he was speaking so fast my mind was spinning, "and we could really use some help out there so get your bow and arrow and let us go!"

Well, he did not have to tell me twice. I grabbed him by the wrist and jerked him toward the stocked supply room, grabbing a bow and a quiver full of arrows and slinging it over my back. I remembered to grab two knives and fasten them onto a belt around my waist. I finished quickly and looked back at Hisael. "Take me," I implored, and he sprinted down the corridor with me at his heels.

-----------

The battle was uglier than I had expected. It was in the clearing of the wood, and I let my jaw drop in horror at the scene. Since when had spiders and Orcs started attacking together? I watched as countless Elves nocked arrows into their bows, firing without concentrating, just firing over and over at the enlarged spiders that threatened to poison and tear apart. I saw Elves I knew, including Malian, Féoras, and Legolas, slaying Orc after Orc, busying themselves with ridding the spiders of their smaller, easier-to-kill counterparts.

I realized I was standing and staring instead of fighting, and I immediately hurried to Malian's side, calling his name.

"Laina! What are you doing here?" Malian yelled back, upending an Orc, sending him flying onto the ground before reaching down to snap his neck. I noticed he was lacking a weapon and saw, a few feet from him, a bow abandoned on the ground. I picked it up and threw it to him, motioning for him to grab a few arrows from my quiver. He shook his head in comical disbelief. "Leaf'll have us all killed before he sees you shoot an Orc," Malian said, winking at me and managing a smile despite our circumstances. He nocked an arrow in his bow and released it, and we both watched it soar into the forehead of an oncoming Orc.

"Well, I guess you'll all have to die, because here comes some more," I replied, gritting my teeth and aiming my arrow carefully, letting it fly into the arm of another Orc. He fell to the ground with the others.

The battle raged on, and I found myself ducking under the swing of an Orc-blade before catching the creature's arm, twisting it and sending my fist into his face. I grabbed a knife from its sheath and stuck it into the Orc's throat, pulling it out as he fell. I watched Malian and Féoras fell more Orcs as well, and tried to help send more arrows in the direction of the two spiders left on their eight legs. The other three had just been killed, and lay twitching on their backs in the clearing.

At that moment I saw another group of Orcs come running at me and I turned to shoot at them when I felt someone back into me. I nearly stuck a knife in his back until I caught sight of blonde hair touching my shoulders and I realized it was an Elf. I pressed my back against his in turn, firing at the Orcs ahead of me until they had all fallen as well. I turned to see Elf behind me, and I should not have been surprised to see rather astonished honey-brown eyes meet mine—come on, had I not realized he had a sort of affinity for these situations?

"Laina! What are you doing here?" he demanded, reaching his bow over my shoulder and sending an expert arrow into a spider's eye.

"I'm _helping_," I answered, aiming an arrow at the spider as well but only hitting one of its many legs. "If you had not noticed, I just killed about five Orcs that would have been at your back in seconds," I explained. At that moment, the spider took a giant step toward us and both Legolas and I sent more arrows in its direction, Legolas hitting it squarely in one of its eyes and my arrow lodging itself somewhere in its torso. I realized that there were no more Orcs left in the battle, and instead they lay in stinking masses on the ground. The two spiders were our only problems now.

"Get _out _of here!" Legolas yelled, stepping in front of me as if he were standing between me and the spider, and sending another arrow into its eye. I wanted to stick a knife in his arm but instead I nocked an arrow in my bow and aimed it over Legolas' shoulder, letting it fly and hit the spider in another arrow-covered leg. Legolas spun around, his eyes narrowed into a scowl.

"You can't stop me from helping right now, Leaf!" I yelled over the din of the fight. As I nocked another arrow in my bow, I noticed Malian running at the second spider with a rather large sword in his hands. I heard him yelling at the Elves around him to keep shooting. I let my arrow go without much care as to where it landed and began to run in Malian's direction, firing over and over at the second spider. "MAL!" I screamed at him as he ran ever closer to one of the spider's eight legs with a sword that glinted in the sun. He turned his brown head to glance at me and I could have sworn I saw him wink before raising the sword and hacking at one of the legs.

"Ilúvatar!" an Elf yelled in loud despair, sinking onto his knees. I had never seen this Elf before, but I ran over to him and picked him back up.

"We do not give up," I said to him, and I had meant it to be a reprimand but it came out as more of a statement than anything else. The Elf looked at me quizzically, his eyebrows furrowed. I patted him on the shoulder before turning again toward the spider.

Malian was still hacking away at its leg, determined to cut off what part of it he could. The spider was now focused intently on him, and its great head began to move in his direction. "NO!" I yelled, wishing there was anything else I could do other than send more arrows in the thing's direction. Suddenly, I heard a great _thud_ and noticed the other spider, lying on its back with its legs twitching menacingly in the air. I stared at it for a moment before turning back to the second spider and loosing more arrows at it.

The spider could not be distracted. Its many eyes found Malian, and it dipped its head toward him faster than the most skilled Elf could nock an arrow. I watched in frozen horror as one of its teeth pierced Malian's chest. The world began to slow, and I could barely hear his cry of pain as he hacked one last time at the leg before it crippled under the spider. The loss of part of a limb must have thrown of the spider's balance, because as soon as the leg crippled, the spider began to fall as well. I watched Malian raise two weak arms and drive the sword into the underside of its belly as it fell before moving out of the way and collapsing on the ground next to the dead spider. For good measure, a few Elves around me hurled more arrows in its direction, but it twitched and then moved no more.

I could only stare from a distance at Malian lying on the ground bleeding. I did not know what to do other than stare. And I was a healer for Varda's sake! But then, that was why I was afraid. I felt a strong hand grab my wrist and pull me in Malian's direction, but I fought it. I did not want to go. I could not watch…

"Laina! We have to help him!" Legolas' voice was yelling as he continued to pull me in a race to Malian's body. I could barely hear the other voices around me as we came to a halt on the ground beside him. "Malian," Legolas nearly whispered, putting a dirty hand on Malian's white cheek.

"Prince," Malian croaked, smiling a little sheepishly.

"Don't call me that," Legolas insisted, bending over his betrayer. "Let me help you up, we need to get you back—"

"No, Greenleaf," Malian insisted, grabbing his old friend's wrist weakly. "This is not a wound you can heal." I swallowed hard, having already known the truth in the words Malian was speaking.

"Don't be so dense," Legolas said crossly, trying to pull Malian up once more. "It's barely there, the healers will have you back on your feet in no time…"

"Leaf," Malian said again, smiling this time. I watched what was left of the color drain slowly from his face as they talked. Malian's eyes began to look a bit glassy and his breath was coming out in short gasps. I could not breathe. "I am so sorry…"

"_No_!" Legolas replied in a harsh whisper. "Don't do this, Mal."

"Shut up Greenleaf and let an Elf talk," Malian managed, blood now trickling out of his nostrils. I could barely tell I was sobbing. "I am so sorry for what I have done, but there is not…not really time for that now…I want you both to know," he said, looking from Legolas to me with a smile in his eyes, "that I love you both…very much…I always have…and…tell…" he began to slow down. Legolas put one hand on Malian's shoulder, and I thought I saw a tear fall down his cheek onto the ground beside us. I could not touch him. I could only watch. Malian swallowed hard and opened his mouth again, but his voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Tell…Kaethe…that I love her…" With those words, his body relaxed. Blood ran in one line from the corner of his mouth down his pale chin and onto the ground. Legolas pressed his fingertips softly to Malian's eyelids, forcing them closed.

"No…" was the only word I could say. Tears were blurring my vision and thoughts that were swimming in my head began to cloud my senses. I wanted Malian to hold me one last time, to give me that regal smile or to look at me with those blue eyes, but I had watched them dim and fade. They would never open again.

I was not sure how time passed after that. I could smell the dirty stench of a burning pile of Orc carcasses, but everything remained hazy. Elves were thrown over other Elves' backs, dead or alive, but neither Legolas nor I were moving. Even Malian's body was hardly there to me; my head felt so light that I nearly fainted. My stomach had nestled in my feet but was burrowing back up and threatening to jump out of my mouth and onto the ground before me. Noises around us were both deafening yet inaudible, yells and footsteps and confusion.

After what felt like hours, a hand pressed firmly on my shoulder, grabbing me and pulling me onto my flimsy legs. I had forgotten I was alive. My thoughts vanished and my vision cleared; I came to see one of the Elves who had been in the fight picking Legolas off the ground as well, a sympathetic smile on his face. Legolas looked from Malian's lifeless body to the Elf and nodded a terrifyingly empty gesture.

"Prince Legolas, we must return with the good news," the Elf said authoritatively, managing a thin smile again. A chill ran down my spine. Legolas nodded. The good news, how ironic. We had managed to kill a few overgrown spiders and fell a number of Orcs, but one of the most important Elves in our lives had been taken in the process. Bittersweet was not quite the word.

Legolas glanced at me for the first time in a while, and I saw things missing there behind those honey brown eyes. First, I did not see the indistinguishable yet comforting look he had taken to giving me (and now that I knew what I knew, I guessed it was more distinguishable than not). Second, I did not see the strength he had always shown even in the presence of ill tidings, and third, I did not see hope. For a moment I felt lightheaded again and my knees threatened to give way beneath me, but the look Legolas continued to give stopped me. If he could not love in spite of death, I could. If he could not be strong, I could. If he would not have hope, I would.

"Let's go," I managed to suggest, and to my surprise my voice was steady. Legolas looked at Malian again as a tear fell down his cheek. "He would not have wanted this for us, Legolas," I continued, taking a step closer to him. Legolas flinched. "He died to save us. Do not let his death be in vain."

"It _was_ in vain!" Legolas spat, looking back at me with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes.

"Only if you let it be," I argued softly, taking another step forward. I was trying to imagine how hard this was for Legolas; not that it was not hard for me. I loved Malian, but he and I had been on good terms for a while. I had seen him smile. I had joked with him. Legolas had spent his time hating him, and he could not be blamed for it, but he regretted it now more than anything, of that I was certain. I feared it would take much consoling before Legolas would come to terms with this. And I was just trying to be strong enough for the both of us, putting what had happened between us behind in the face of death.

"You cannot understand," Legolas whispered, the anger slipping off of him like a silk sheet. It fell around his feet and disappeared.

"I will not argue with that," I agreed, taking one last step toward him and placing a hand on his shoulder. The gesture felt awkward, though, and I could not stop myself from bringing my arms around his neck and hugging him closely. "But he will not have died in vain if we fight this, if we continue to fight and if we don't lose hope. The world still needs us. It still needs _you_," I said into his ear. He did not make to put his arms around me in return, but continued standing there, no doubt looking over my shoulder and onto the ground beneath us.

"My Prince?" the Elf from before had approached us again. "It is time."


	27. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

It has just recently come to my attention that people are still READING this thing! And I, your disloyal author, have let you down by not updating… it's been totally on the backburner and I know I make so many promises of updating and it always takes me a while. I also recognize that my excuses are always the same… the "real" world and people in it, school, my own stupid writer's block, or whatever else. But I've let you down! I want you readers to know that I have every intention of finishing this eventually and I've been recently inspired, so hopefully I will update soon (but I don't want to make any empty promises). That being said, I have written more of it since this update so I'm debating whether or not to put that bit up or to just wait until it's a long enough chapter. But I promise I _will _finish this thing so just be patient with me, and thank you to all of you who have stuck it out and I'm very sorry to all of you who may have forgotten what's even going ON in this story (as I may have, just a little bit). Anyway, I do promise to finish it and I hope you guys will stick with it. Thank you for the kind reviews – goodness knows I wouldn't be continuing this without you guys. So stick around and look for an update relatively soon. Thanks again, all of you!

-Archer of Mirkwood


	28. Normalcy

**Now, see, didn't I tell you I'd have an update rather soon?**

**----------------------------------**

**March, Year 3018 of the Third Age**

I had not attended Malian's funeral, which had taken place a few weeks' prior to the start of March. It had now been a month since his death, but I refused to dwell upon it. Mirkwood could not bear the excess of mourners; Malian had not been the only one to die in the battle, or since the beginning of Year 3018. I had convinced myself that Malian would not have wanted me to live the rest of my life missing him, though I had to admit I would, of course, but I would keep it in the back of my mind. I would not wear it on my shoulder. Mirkwood needed me now more than ever. It needed us all.

After the battle that claimed Malian's life, Legolas yielded to my demands and let me back on patrol. I suspect Thranduil had much to do with this, especially since Legolas refused to tell me himself. Actually, Legolas had not said much to me in the last month. He had not said much to anyone. In fact, I was hard pressed to remember the last time I had seen him, and I wanted to hit him for it. If Malian's death could teach us anything it would be that life is short and that one should always be there for the ones they love. Legolas was feeling guilty because he had not said one word to Malian in years, save something nasty. Now that I was back on patrol, I figured Legolas would learn this lesson and perhaps be a little too clingy: making sure I was shooting my best, and double checking that I had all the protection I could, and at least saying "good luck" or "see you later" when I would part for my duties. But Legolas had been a no-show in my life for a while.

Since that night, that night he had confessed whatever feelings he _thought _he had for me, I had not slept in the same room with anyone but myself. The nightmares still haunted me when I was not awake, but I had learned to deal with them. When I woke up, I would only remember snippets of what I had seen, but I had always woken up nauseous and uncomfortable, worried. With circumstances as they were, worried was not an unusual sentiment, but I always felt like I was worried for people I had never met. I usually ignored the feeling and concentrated on sleeping through the dreams and not letting them exhaust me to the point where I could not perform my best during patrol.

I had continued to see Féoras, and while he was not exactly the cheeky sort that could always cheer me up with a joke or an inappropriate hand gesture, he had become my rock. He let me rant and rave like I had taken to, but at the end of it all he would stand and hug me, reassuring me that everything would be alright. If it were not for Féoras, I am not quite sure I would still be anywhere near sane.

I leaned against a tree eyeing the darkness that engulfed the wood. The mist that had descended upon us no longer lifted, and I could feel the beads of sweat form on my skin. The woods felt warm for such a time of year. The fog entered my throat, drying it; it created an arid film over my eyes. The only thing the mist could not affect was my hearing, and though I closed my eyes for long periods of time, my keen sense of sound kept me alert.

A rustle came from my right and my eyes rushed open. I nocked an arrow in my bow without a sound, taking a silent step in the direction of the noise. I was barely breathing and struggling to see through the dense layer of fog. Another rustle. I stopped, pleading my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Rustle. I prepared to send an arrow flying with or without the use of my eyes—

"Varda damn it!" came an unpleasant whisper as soon as I had loosed my arrow. I heard it whiz so close to something that I guessed it almost hit the intruder somewhere in the right side of his face. "Who is it?" the voice asked harshly.

"Ilúvatar, you must be joking," I whispered back. "A sleeping Dwarf could have heard the noise you just made!" The Elf took another step toward me, and I saw his outline against the moonlight that barely streamed through a tree over his head. The moon made his hair seem white as snow, and I saw a flicker of yellow eyes I thought I recognized. "The moon plays too many tricks," I continued to whisper to him. "Don't make me shoot another arrow at you, and this time I won't miss."

"Laina?" Ah.

"Varda damn it, Leaf," I sighed, thinking of shooting another arrow at him anyway. "I could have killed you!"

"Mmm," he responded, deadpan, almost as if that fate did not seem too horrible to him.

"You know what? Maybe I will. Stay still, I need more target practice in the dark," I replied quickly, nocking another arrow in my bow. Legolas stood there without moving, alarm not even beginning on his face. I raised an eyebrow that I am sure he did not miss. "Don't think I'll do it, do you?" I added.

"Be serious, Laina," he responded, not even looking at me, but past me, into the woods. It took most of my self-control to stop from flicking his nose for being so high-and-mighty. He was not himself.

"Fine," I surrendered after a moment's hesitation, lowering my bow and glancing around. "See you later, I suppose." Legolas nodded and I turned to walk away, expecting him to stop me with a grab of my wrist.

After I had taken five steps, I turned my head to see if he was watching me as I walked away, but he had disappeared without another sound. An intense feeling of disappointment flooded my veins like poison, and I had to support myself on a tree to keep from falling to the ground. My legs were a little weak. What was wrong with me?

The next day dawned as every day did, gloomy and without much word from the world outside of Mirkwood. I still felt a little sick from the night spent patrolling, and decided to get someone to fulfill my duties for me that evening. Memories of the way things once were swamped my thoughts. Where was Aragorn? He had only left two months before, but the word he should have been sending was one of utmost importance. I wondered what adventures he was encountering while he traveled to save this life-threatening Ring of Power. A strange feeling tugged at my heart like a tiny piece of time telling me that soon, the whole world would be in motion. Soon, everyone would be needed. Soon, the fate of Middle-earth would be decided. I felt a chill run from my head down to my arms like someone had poured cold honey on my head that dripped slowly to my fingertips. Nothing was right anymore.

"You look saddened, milady," the voice of Féoras said. When I engaged my surroundings, I found myself in a courtyard of the palace that I had only been through a few times in my stay in Mirkwood. There were stone statues of Elven kings carved into the walls and the yellow and white flowers bloomed as if in ignorance of the foul air that engulfed them. Féoras was seated on a stone bench that lined the walkway through the courtyard. He had a grim smile on his strong, pale face. His sawdust-colored hair had even lost a little of its luster since the beginning of it all.

I sighed, forcing one foot in front of the other, making my way to sit down next to him. He took my trembling hand in his as I sat, and pulled my head onto his shoulder.

"Féoras, I feel as if this war will never end," I whispered.

"It is not yet a war, Laina. This is only the beginning." As if that were very comforting. I wanted to flick his nose, but the gesture was something I had taken to reserving for extreme moments of idiocy. The time never seemed to call for lightheartedness anymore.

"Thanks," I nevertheless responded sarcastically. It was all I could do to stop from despairing. Féoras chuckled slightly and I felt his strong shoulder beneath my head shake.

"We will live to see the end of it," he assured me.

"But what will the end bring?" I countered, eyeing my lap and trying to keep my mind off the fact that no one could know the answer to the daunting question at hand.

"We can only take it a day at a time. I know that is not as comforting an answer as one would wish, but it is the only way to live right now," he finished. I sighed again as he squeezed my hand. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes hard and have it all be over. I wanted no part in this war. I imagined what Aragorn would think if I had said that out loud; he would probably tell me that the world was doomed without everyone's participation, without unity. As if the world of Elves would ever sacrifice themselves for Men. It was a dream.

I'm not sure how long Féoras and I sat in the courtyard contemplating the war that lay before us all. However, the quiet was interrupted by a gentle voice, singing cheerless Elvish words almost inaudibly. The Elf in question came into sight momentarily, and I looked up at him as if he were someone I did not recognize. And he wasn't. I thought that might have been the saddest moment of my life.

Legolas nodded his regal head in our direction as he passed by, and I could tell he was completely unaware of who I was. Had he let himself grieve at all? It had seemed like he simply let his head take over. Everything he did was stiff and lifeless; nothing was emotion-driven as it would have been with the Legolas I knew so well. The sight was so disgusting that I decided I could not stand for it any longer. I loosened my hand from Féoras' and stood up, jogging after Legolas.

As I caught up with him, the song stopped and I saw nothing but a blank stare in his honey brown eyes, the same eyes I was so used to seeing brimming with laughter or anger, but never, ever empty. I was unsure of what to do, so I did the first thing that came to mind: I grabbed his arm forcefully.

If I had been an Orc I would have been dead before I realized I was alive. Legolas released his arm from my grasp and grabbed mine so fast even my sharp Elven eyes could not see the movement. He would have flipped me over his back and pinned me down with crushing force if I had not yelped in momentary pain. As quickly as the action had occurred, it was over, and Legolas released my arm with trepidation, eyes wide.

"What on Middle-earth were you thinking, Laina?" Legolas yelled after an instant, adding a few other colorful words almost under his breath. "I could have killed you!" For a second I saw in his eyes the same anger and concern that Legolas was so often overcome with when he thought of me in danger, but as soon as I had seen it, it subsided as if it had never appeared. I raised one eyebrow at him, pausing for a moment, trying to hide the trembling of my hand.

"Oh I was letting you do that," I quipped as quickly as the words would come to my mouth as he began walking away again. I hurried to catch up to him and grabbed his arm another time. He wrenched it out of my fingers.

"Ilúvatar!" Legolas swore. "What do you want?" His face was red and his eyes blazed with rage and cooled immediately.

"I see you in there," I said softly, placing a hand on his arm once more. This time he did not jerk away, but stood at the entrance to the courtyard, staring at me with those expressionless eyes. "Oh Legolas," I whispered, taking a step closer to him. He took a quick step backward. "Why are you doing that?" I protested, almost whining.

"I don't want to be near anyone," Legolas said with a sort of finality as if the sentence closed the conversation, but I had other plans.

"What does _that _mean?" I asked indignantly, crossing my arms and tapping one foot in annoyance. Maybe my nagging would bring him back to himself.

"It means I don't want to be close to anyone," he stated again in a monotone as his eyes glazed over, blank. As if an arrow had just struck my heart, the meaning dawned on me.

"You mean you don't want to care about anyone because they might die?" I had pushed the right button. Varda, I was good at Legolas-talk. Once again I saw an angry flash in his eyes as if he might respond with the same force he would have only months ago, but he said nothing and instead clenched his jaw. I saw the muscles in his face freezing and grinding as he tried to hold back what he wanted to say. "Leaf, damn it, people get hurt. People get killed. Malian would not have wanted you to live your life without caring about people who matter! Malian would have wanted you to _fight _for the things you believe in, he would have wanted you to move on and keep his memory with you and _smile_! What do you think he would say if he were here right now and he saw you acting this way?" I was nearly screaming at him and I could feel my face turning redder with every word that slipped off my tongue and hung in the air between us. Legolas, however, had let every word sink in as fast as he could hear them; it was as if he were drinking in the words like he had not had water in days. He was ready.

"WELL HE _ISN'T _HERE RIGHT NOW, IS HE?" His voice rang out so loudly that I thought every Orc in Mordor could hear it. I would not have been surprised if Sauron himself had heard the words, clearly, resolutely, deadly. For more than a moment, the emotion flooded back into Legolas' white face and darkened his eyes menacingly. I felt like I could have shrunk in his gaze like a spurned dog, but I refused to back down. I was finally breaking through the wall he had erected in Malian's stead. I was going in swinging and I would leave no brick untouched.

"He's always _here_, Leaf," I said finally after I had found my voice. It sounded pale in comparison to the deafening ringing of his own which still echoed about us. Legolas' eyes flashed again as if he meant to interrupt, but I had my foot in the door and would not allow it to shut in my face. I continued. "He's in the flowers and the trees, he's in the sky and the grass…" The words were escaping my mouth and with every word spoke, I felt another small weight lifted off of me. These words were true. They were not just for Legolas, but for myself. My voice was rising in a terrible crescendo. "He's in the stone and the faces of every Elf in Mirkwood! He _is _here and he wants us to carry on, to _win_ this war for the sake of the people we care about, for the sake of the people _he _cared about—us. Legolas, can't you see him? Can't you feel him?" I felt hot tears flood my eyes and melt my cheeks. I wiped them away indignantly and threw my hands in the air. "He _is _here!" I insisted at the top of my lungs as I lifted my face to the sky and spun around, almost laughing with realization. I must have looked insane to any outsider, but through the words I was also allowing myself to feel something. I had moved on so quickly from Malian's death in the face of evil that had descended on Mirkwood that I had not grieved either. Legolas was eyeing me wildly as if contemplating my words. He glanced from the flowers to the sky with a fierce gaze, swallowing hard as his eyes met mine again.

We stood there for a while, Legolas and I, staring at each other. Tears were now freely rolling down my cheeks, but I did not bother to wipe them off. Legolas' face was growing from angry to sad to happy to concerned so fast that I was unable to discern the emotions in between. After what seemed like a lifetime of staring at each other, feeling emotions we had not allowed ourselves to feel, Legolas finally took a leap toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist, hoisting me off my feet and spinning around. His golden hair flew behind him as he laughed and I cried. Nothing felt like his arms did around me. Nothing felt like our hearts beating in rhythm, so close to each other, pressed against each other, sharing emotions. Dizzy, Legolas set me down and we both fell backwards onto the grass. I noticed for a fleeting second that Féoras had disappeared from the courtyard, and Legolas and I were alone.

Our breathing was erratic but unified, fast and slow, audible and inaudible. We finally turned over to face each other and Legolas put a hand on my cheek and looked at me. He was back. It felt like someone returning from the dead.

"Laina, I'm so sorry…" he began, but I cut him off with a roll of my eyes and a small smile.

"Just don't ever do that again," I responded, too relieved to be angry. After everything that happened, I had forgotten about the way Legolas had told me he felt, and it seemed as if he had forgotten as well. We were both so happy just to be ourselves again that we forgot about everything else. Well, almost everything else.

"What is going to happen?" Legolas asked me seriously, putting his strong hand behind my back and pulling me into a hug. I felt one side of my face pressed against the warm grass and the other side pressed against Legolas' pulsing neck. His voice sounded deep and hoarse as he talked. I did not bother to answer the question. Fate would decide what we would have to face in the year to come.


	29. To Lorien

**Haha, and guess what? ANOTHER chapter. TWO whole chapters in one day. :) I hope this keeps you satisfied for at least a little while... :) **

**--------------------------**

**June, Year 3018 of the Third Age**

It had been five months since Aragorn had left Mirkwood again, and still there had been no word from him. I still taught healing classes during the day, and I patrolled the borders of Mirkwood at night under Legolas' command. I had not had much time to spare to think, let alone to have many conversations outside of my own head. I often saw Thranduil pacing around the halls or giving harsh orders to patrols. Every day, another Elf found himself in the hospital wing. Our numbers were not dwindling yet, but I feared that with the number of Orcs now crossing our border, they would start. Many meetings had been held to speculate why Orcs would be crossing our borders. The general consensus was that they were coming from Mordor and were going North to avoid Gondor, a stronghold of Men. But why they were leaving Mordor in droves was beyond our intellect, and guesswork only provided us with impossible answers. The fact remained that the Orcs that did come into our land were not united and had no leader. Perhaps they had stumbled into our Wood by accident, but they did not like to die without a fight.

"—but Father, I think it's best that we—" Legolas was protesting as I came out of my thoughts.

"Legolas, you have heard what I have to say," Thranduil interrupted. "With no word from Lord Aragorn, we must assume—"

"With all due respect, Your Highness," I began with a warning glance from Legolas, "we must assume nothing. Aragorn will send word when there is one to send." Thranduil gazed at me with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment before continuing.

"Lady Laina," Thranduil said in a soft voice, "We cannot rely on a _ranger_ to be prompt in his dealings with Elves. I do have much respect for Lord Aragorn, of course," he admitted, holding up a hand to silence the insult I was about to throw at him like the daggers my eyes were wielding, "But I do not see the sense in waiting. We must contact the Elves of Lórien, see if they have any word that we do not."

"Send me to Lórien, then," Legolas blurted out. I felt myself do a double-take from my pacing, causing me to trip over my feet and stumble. Luckily I caught my balance again and regained my composure into a somewhat wobbly, disbelieving stance to stare at Legolas.

"Are you insane?" I heard myself say aloud. Well, he was being a moron and my mouth usually caught up to my thoughts before my head did, and the King's presence would not halt my skepticism. Legolas nearly laughed out loud, but held the laughter between his thin lips as he turned again to his father. Thranduil was looking at me with some sort of gleeful twinkle in his eyes as he considered Legolas' request.

"I think that might be a good idea," Thranduil responded after a moment, ignoring my outburst. My jaw dropped and I felt my eyebrows knit in astonishment.

"You two are a pair of idiots!" I almost shrieked. There went my mouth again. Thranduil and I had undoubtedly had many a run-in, but I got the feeling that no one had ever quite spoken to the King in such a way. However, I was too angry and alarmed at the thought of Legolas traveling to Lórien to even follow my accusation with an apologetic glance, let alone with an actual apology. Legolas was now grinning inanely at me as if he were trying to decide whether to laugh or be horrified. Thranduil, on the other hand, began to chuckle under his breath.

"I must say, Legolas, she's much like a bolt of lightning, this one," he mused, indicating me with a bow of his regal head. I raised an eyebrow at him but thought it best not to say anything else insulting for fear that I would be sentenced to death by beheading. Thranduil sighed then, shaking his head and chuckling a bit more before regaining an air of sincerity. "Thank you for your input, Laina, as it was well-thought out and persuasive," he began, and for the first time, to my never-ending surprise, I heard true sarcasm in Thranduil's voice, "but, I think it may be for the best. Legolas knows the way and is recognizable to the wary eyes of the guards of Lórien. Not any messenger would make it all the way to the Lady and Lord of that realm, for they would be stopped by foot soldiers and outer guards and demanded to pass along the message through them—who knows whether or not it would actually reach the Lady Galadriel? And not all messages are taken quite as seriously as they should be. No, I think in this time of great need, Legolas should be sent." With finality in his voice, Thranduil finished his spoken thoughts, but I could see in his grim expression that his considerations continued in his head.

"Thank you father," Legolas replied quickly. "I will hasten to Lórien with great speed." I was momentarily rendered speechless at this rash decision by the King and his dolt of a son. I thought it best that we all wait for Aragorn's word. After all, he _would _send word if there were one to be sent; I trusted that. But now Legolas was to leave for Lórien and I would be left in Mirkwood with no word from Aragorn _or _Legolas. The thought was unbearable.

"You should not go alone," Thranduil interjected after a moment's thought. I jumped at the opportunity.

"I'll go with him!" I insisted hastily, taking a step closer to Thranduil. He smiled smugly as if he knew I would volunteer.

"But who will teach your classes and take your place on patrol when you are gone?" Thranduil asked.

"Well, who will take Legolas' place? He's your best archer and leader! If you let _him_ go, surely you can spare a simple archer like myself. And as for the classes—well, there are other healers in Mirkwood who would love to take over my duties for a while, I'm sure of it!" Though the rationale was weak, I was determined at least that I would be by Legolas' side if anything were to happen. In this way, I would only still be waiting for word from Aragorn instead of from two of my favorite males. And to be stuck here with only Féoras' company would certainly drive me mad, for as much as I appreciated Féoras' friendship, he could not replace the satisfaction I got from being near Aragorn or Legolas.

Thranduil mulled over it for a moment, but seemed to have already made up his mind. "Very well," Thranduil replied in a knowing tone. "You two will be difficult to replace but I feel this mission is of great importance." With that, Thranduil turned back to his desk. "You leave tonight, for this mission is one of haste, so pack your saddlebags—but pack lightly and smartly, and bring with you weapons. You do not know who or what you may encounter on the road to Lórien. Here is a map in case you lose your sense of direction," he continued, ruffling through some parchments on his desk and finding the map he was searching for. He rolled it up and bound it before handing it to Legolas. "And son," Thranduil added before we turned to leave, "be careful." Legolas nodded and embraced his father earnestly, and I grinned when I saw Thranduil's genuinely concerned but caring smile over Legolas' strong shoulder. With that, Thranduil turned to his desk once more and waved a hand over his shoulder, indicating that we go.

---------------------------------------------

Legolas and I had separated to our own chambers to pack our things and we met again at the stables. When I arrived, he had already begun saddling a brown horse with a white spot between its eyes. Legolas was whispering to him, calling him by name—Taurvantian. He was a beautiful horse to be sure, as all the horses that were owned by the King. Legolas felt my presence and turned his golden head to me, something much like worry clouding his eyes. I chose to ignore it.

"I have already saddled this one for you," Legolas said, indicating another dark brown horse beside Taurvantian with white surrounding its ankles. "His name is Arthion."

"Thank you," I replied as I moved toward Arthion, allowing him to sniff my hand and stroking his gorgeous hair. I whispered to him too, as is custom, thanking him for allowing me to ride him for this distance and bearing my weight and the weight of my saddlebag and weapons. I had one short knife stuck into my boots and a bow with a quiver full of arrows on my back. Legolas had much of the same, with two daggers also at his side. I hitched up my saddlebag and led Arthion out of the stable, Legolas behind me with Taurvantian.

"We ride South for now," Legolas said, mounting his horse and scowling at the setting sun. I pulled myself into the saddle beside him and we kept both of our horses still for a moment, watching the colors in the sky grow dimmer with each passing second. "You know we will come across many Orcs in this land, Laina, and perhaps in other lands to the South as well, if we are correct in our assumptions that that Orcs head North from Mordor. Be on the lookout—we cannot spare time." I had not heard Legolas speak with such an air of authority and with such a bleak countenance in months, but I understood that his mind was elsewhere, and this trip was not meant for pleasure.

"Yes, my prince," I responded regally, unable to resist making him feel just a _little _foolish for the weight in his words. I cracked a smile as he turned his head toward me, pursing his lips in mock anger.

"You'll regret that later," Legolas quipped, urging his horse forward at a surprising speed.

"Oh yeah?" I called after him, urging Arthion forward as well.

"Yes, when my horse outruns yours and you are left to fend for yourself at night against a band of Orcs and cave-trolls! Then we'll see how much you need your prince!" Legolas yelled back at me, laughing in the darkness that was separating us.

"Oh go on then! I could take down Sauron himself with my bare hands!" I called back, urging Arthion forward into a full sprint. We were both laughing uncontrollably now, and Legolas slowed his horse down so I could catch up.

"I'm glad you're coming with me," he said finally, his voice dripping with sincerity that stuck to me like honey.

I fought the urge to reply sarcastically, and answered, "Me too, Legolas." Thus our journey to Lórien began, and we rode side-by-side into the horizon.


End file.
